Opposite
by The Girl from Badlands
Summary: Sequel-ish to Angel Of The Stars. I really don't know how to summarize this - but it's Tariel's story. So hopefully you'll enjoy this.
1. Prologue Part 1

**Well hi! This is a sort of sequel to Angel Of The Stars. This story involves Tariel, who was introduced in AOTS first. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

"Viola!" My mother called from downstairs, "Breakfast!"

I stared out my window, watching the black crows fly past my window. One landed on the tree outside and looked at me. I smiled back softly, "The bluebirds are all at Elizabeth's home, aren't they?" I asked. The crow kept staring at me, then uttered a loud 'kaw!' I looked back down at my book, then wrote more, occasionally looking back up at the crow.

There was a knock on my door and the house maid, Annie, came in, "Your mother wants you downstairs, Viola."

"I'm busy. I'll be down momentarily, but thank you, Annie." I said, finishing off my poem and closing the book. I hadn't been hungry for the past few days – Mr. Victor had abandoned me at the party he held at his manor when he saw Elizabeth walk by. Elizabeth was prettier than me – she had golden blonde hair and the most brilliant blue eyes. She had a dimple and a pretty smile – a perfect mask for her ugly soul.

I didn't think of myself as much to look at – mother sometimes said I looked like I had come from a funeral. I had very pale white – perhaps even ghostly white – skin and basically black hair. Both my mother and father had naturally dark hair, I just got the black from it. My mother said it was rare to have black hair on a female of my race, so I guess I was a little lucky to have that. My eyes were the only pretty thing to look at though – they were wide eyed with curiosity and they were green.

I hated Elizabeth. I would imagine the crows pecking out her eyes sometimes – it made me laugh. Sadistic, yes, but it _was_ Elizabeth.

It's not like Mr. Victor ever cared about me, anyway. I needed someone who'd listen to me.

I got up from my desk and scampered downstairs, eating breakfast and leaving. I walked down the street off to the market – I needed a new journal, mine was now full. I heard the many clip clops of hooves against the cobblestone streets in my town until I heard a voice shout, "Stop!"

I looked to my left to see Elizabeth poke her head out of the window, "Hello, Viola." She snickered.

"What do you want?" I asked shyly, continuing to walk. I heard her get out of the carriage and follow me. I didn't like Elizabeth because frankly I was scared of her.

"So, Mr. Victor's party was quite an interesting event." She smirked.

"I don't really care about that swine anymore." I told her quietly, trying to get away.

Elizabeth gasped, obviously hearing me, "How _dare_ you call him a swine! You're just saying that out of spite!"

"No, he's always been a swine, I've just been too caught up in his looks to realize that he's a man with too much pride and no care for women beside what pleasure they can offer him." I told her truthfully.

"He'll certainly be hearing about this, Viola." She hissed, going back to her carriage.

What had I done? My mother wouldn't be pleased about this. I was always too shy to stand up for myself or state my opinion, and the one time I did, which was just then, I felt sick to the stomach.

Once I got a new journal, I headed away from town and to the forest. The crows all watched me with beady black eyes and I entered the place, chilling me to the bone. But it was Spring. Oh well, I'd rather the cold.

I sat against a tree, the midday sun fading into a moon by the time I was finished for the day. I stood, seeing all the birds had disappeared, "Good night." I murmured. I liked talking to the birds – they never talked back, naturally, but they were the only ones that would listen. Pathetic, I know.

I looked around, hearing the crack of a branch. It was probably nothing, but I swore I felt eyes on me. I heard the pull back of something like wire and I heard a shooting sound pierce the air.

I felt an arrow pierce me through the stomach. I tried to scream but my heart was pounding and I was so shocked that I couldn't mutter anything.

I fell to the ground, blood dripping over my journal, ruining my work. The last words I caught were 'The feeling of never being good enough will always find you'.

I heard shouting and cursing as I heard footsteps running toward me, "Oh dear God," a man exclaimed, "John! I hit someone, help me!" He cried back to his partner.

I could still feel blood coming out from the wound. This was all new kinds of sorrow and the tears that could be falling from my cheeks were encased in my eyes, shock keeping them in like a cage.

I thought of the only 3 people I cared about – my mother, my uncle and Annie. But then my bittersweet thoughts turned to hatred as I thought of all the people who I hated: my father, Elizabeth, Mr. Victor, May (father's new wife) and their son Ronald – he kicked me the last time I saw him.

How pitiful it was to be thinking of such things. Death's kiss was not tender or gentle – it was painful and cold. It made me feel hated – I was by most.

The voices around me were beginning to fade into muffles. My vision was going black at the edges. But I could see them leaving guiltily, leaving me to die alone. It made my heart grow colder.

I clasped my journal in my hands, so tight that no one would be able to pull it away from me. Then I couldn't see anything at all, and I felt heavy. I felt truly dead.


	2. Prologue Part 2

I had been made an Angel of the Lord as soon as I entered Heaven. I kept mainly to myself – there was only one other human Angel, and that was Mazalel. She was nice but she usually hung around with an Angel named Castiel.

So in conclusion, I had no one to talk to. I just sat somewhere and wrote in a journal, everyone leaving me alone.

But then one day I needed Mazalel's help. I never really knew about the stars – I just liked the way they looked. I wanted to use the names of constellations in my poems so I just needed her help. But just my luck, she was on earth.

As soon as I found myself back on earth again, I was in the same clothes in which I died in. Repaired, of course. I was in an alleyway, dim lighting above me going out and coming back a couple of times. I shivered with the cold wind, my back against the wall as I sat miserably clutching my knees.

"This was a mistake." I murmured, holding my head in my right hand.

I couldn't go back now. I placed my hands on either side of me, trying to stand. I leaned against the wall with wobbly legs and straightened, walking forward slowly. I walked out of the alleyway, realizing that I wasn't wearing time appropriate clothes.

I walked down the street to a bar of some sort where many people were gathered in costume. Someone grabbed me by the arm, "Are you here for the contest?" She asked me excitedly.

I looked her up and down, "What-what are you?" I asked. She was wearing a puffed up orange jacket, denim pants, a shirt, some kind of odd shoes and she was carrying a board of some kind.

"I'm Marty McFly." She told me with a grin, "From _Back to the Future_."

"Oh…Okay." I just nodded, still utterly confused. I just shook my head, "Well, I'm not- I'm not in the contest…"

"You should be! That looks like an authentic dress – you could totally win!"

"Win what, exactly?" I asked curiously.

"300 dollars in cash."

"For dressing up?" I asked in disbelief. She just nodded. I needed money to get the essentials. "Where do I sign up?" I asked.

She pulled my arm up onto a stage, "Maria! We got another one!" She shouted. I hated all these people looking at me.

The girl known as Maria scurried over, "Great!" She looked me over, "What's your name?"

"Viola."

"Hmm…" She scribbled some things on a piece of paper, walking away. I watched her walk away, "That's it?" I asked, turning back to the girl.

"You just have to wait, then the others will get judged and then you may win."

I waited for what seemed like a half hour or so until Maria came onto the stage and some people ushered me and a few others into a line.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen!" Maria greeted. I tuned out for a while until I heard my name. Everyone looked to me and cheered as Maria grabbed my wrist and pulled me to center stage. I shrouded my eyes from the bright light and Maria shook my hand, handing me 300 dollars.

"Uh, thank you." I backed away before turning and running down the steps and as far as my feet would take me. By the time I got to a clothing store I was out of breath.

I dressed myself in undergarments, a pair of 'skinny black jeans', a long sleeved black shirt with a white quill on it, a black blazer and black 'combat boots'.

Weeks passed until I came across Mazalel after tracking down where she worked. She was with Castiel at that time, and she explained she was with the Winchesters investigating some murders. I had joined her immediately.

Who would pass up a chance to investigate murder?

* * *

I was in the Winchester's car driving back to the Bunker with them, which I assumed was their home. Castiel and Tariel were both asleep, though he had just been awake and Mazalel kept fidgeting. I assumed he must've entered her dream. Sam, the younger Winchester, was also asleep. Dean, the older Winchester, was the only other one awake besides me. He fiddled with a contraption near the center of the car as different music played.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to it as I leaned over his chair.

"Oh, it's a radio. It plays music. My tape player is acting up so I have to listen to radio – the main channels are just playing crap at the moment." He explained, flipping to another station.

There was gentle guitar strumming until a voice was heard, "If all our life is but a dream, fantastic posing greed, then we should feed our jewelry to the sea."

Dean was about to change, "Please don't change it." I pleaded.

Dean pulled his hand away, "It's _Northern Downpour_." He mumbled.

I sat back in my seat, "Pardon?" I asked, not quite catching what he said.

"It's _Northern Downpour_. It's by a band called _Panic! at the Disco_." He repeated.

I just nodded, "It's beautiful." I remarked, listening to it carefully. I looked back over to Cas and Mazalel – they were still asleep. When they woke up it would feel like it only lasted a little while whereas in truth it lasted a while.

Northern Downpour soon ended, and then another song came on straight after. There was a deep bass and then singing, "I never thought I'd die alone,"

"What's this?" I asked.

"_Adam's Song_, blink-182." Dean answered, keeping his eyes on the road.

These two songs so far fitted me too well, and once Adam's Song had ended, another played. This song made me feel…I didn't know. Anger? Sadness? It was like a mix.

Before I could ask, Dean answered, "_Can You Feel My Heart_, Bring Me The Horizon."

"How do you know so much about the songs?"

"I've heard them before once or twice." He answered nonchalantly.


	3. Summoning the King

We had been living a few days at the bunker. Dean and Sam had explained to me what was going on, and I was very intrigued by this mystery.

I knew Mazalel was killed by Jack the Ripper, who really was just a man named Aaron Kosminksi. Everyone knew that. But did people know what I was killed from? No. I believed my death was my own personal matter. And my death scared me as much as it intrigued me – so I kept it as my little secret.

One morning, Sam sat me down at a table in the Bunker and he sat across from me, "Tariel," he began, "Have you ever heard of Crowley?" He asked simply.

"Aleister Crowley?" I asked, making sure.

"No, no, not him. There's this Demon, and he, he's the King of Hell." Sam explained. I just nodded, why was he telling me this? "We're going to be summoning him to see if we can get any information out on Jack the Ripper. Do you want to come?" He asked gently.

Sam was like a protective brother – always looking out for his siblings, sweet, gentle. It was kind of him to ask, but I was unsure on the subject.

"Sam, I..." I faltered, rethinking my decision. This could be interesting, "Sure."

* * *

Dean soon summoned the Demon named Crowley and he appeared in the shack. Castiel muttered something to Mazalel and she left. Cas always looked out for Mazalel, but I was the third wheel in these situations.

I tilted my head slightly, looking back to Crowley. He didn't look dangerous, I knew he was, but he didn't look it. His eyes caught mine for a second before moving his eyes to the Winchesters.

"What now, boys?" He asked, looking back to me, "Who's this?"

"I'm Tariel. Angel of poetry." I said before Castiel could answer for me – he was prone to doing that at times.

"I'm Crowley, the King of Hell. But you probably already know that, being with Moose and Squirrel." Crowley told me. I just nodded, confused.

"Are you sure you have nothing to do with Jack the Ripper?" Dean asked him sternly.

Crowley just sighed, "Oh no, I forgot. I set him up to do those killings." He told them sarcastically. "No, I know I have nothing to do with him. He loved _Lucifer_, he _hates_ me!" Crowley growled. "Basically everyone left in that pathetic dump is against me because they preferred Lucifer or Abbadon and there is only a few that are with me, even though I'm the King." He told them calmly. "And some want to overthrow me." He added with an annoyed mumble.

"Look, Crowley, we don't really care, okay? Can you tell us something – anything – you know about Jack the Ripper?" Dean hissed.

I wanted to know what Crowley had to say. No one should've been deprived of speaking of what was going on in their lives. Maybe no one cared about him.

At that moment, Mazalel burst into the shack, "The contraption in your car, it's saying there's been another murder similar to Jack the Ripper's works."

"Well then let's go." Dean started to leave.

"Well we can't leave Crowley here, someone needs to watch him." Sam told our small group. I looked over to Crowley, who was standing in the middle of a Devil's trap with a glass in his hands. He looked up to me and gave me a little wave as everyone kept arguing.

I spoke up, "I'll stay." The group stared at me – the innocent little creature here with the King of Hell, it didn't seem safe. "It's safer for me here than there." I told them calmly.

Dean just nodded, passing me his demon knife, "Use this if you must. There's salt in the cupboard." He told me. I just nodded and the group left, followed by Dean, whispering their fears for me.

Once they were gone, I sat in a chair and pulled up my notebook from my pocket. I grabbed my pen and started writing.

"Is that all you do?" He asked.

I just looked up, "It's all anyone ever told me I was good at." I told him.

"You must be good at something else." Crowley told me.

I paused, "I have secret talents, but that's why they're secrets." I admitted. Crowley just rolled his eyes and I stood, grabbing a chair from the corner of the shack and pushing it into the Devil's trap with a cautious hand.

Crowley sat down, "Thanks."

I just grabbed my notepad and paced the room, seeming to forget everything, wanting to forget everything. They were right about how they saw me – I was just an innocent pushover who kept quiet and who was the most boring being in all realms of existence.

Sometimes I just wanted to do something brave, just to show them I could. But fear always dragged me back into her tormenting tomb of the never ending feeling of failure.

"May I read?" He asked, dragging me from my thoughts.

"Huh?" I asked, slightly confused as I looked up. Crowley pointed to my notepad and I blushed, shaking my head as I held it to me, "No, it isn't that good." I told him.

"I'm sure it is. Please?" He asked with his raspy voice.

I nodded, defeated, and using his telekinesis, he plucked it out of my hands and dragged it to himself. As he read, I kept pacing. I looked back to Crowley to see his eyes wide, scanning my work. He finished, "That was brilliant." He told me, looking back up to me.

I took it from him, "Thank you." I murmured shyly.

Crowley paused, studying me for a moment, "Tell me more about yourself, Tariel."

"What's there to tell? I died of sickness in 1893." I lied quickly. I never died of sickness – that was a lie I told to anyone who asked.

He chuckled, "No you didn't. You're not a good liar, Tariel." He told me, "Come on, just take up a seat."

Cautiously, I grabbed my chair and pulled it to him, sitting down, "I refuse to talk about my death, but I can tell you ways I would've preferred to die." I told him.

"Fine. Tell me what you like, then." He suggested.

"Well, besides poetry, music, rain, birds...I liked exploring, not so much anymore." I told him.

"Hmm, a 'curiosity kills the cat' situation?" he asked. I just nodded, "Ah. Tell me more."

Gaining confidence around him, I spoke up, "Well, my father left my mother when I was just a baby because he was having an affair. I grew up with my mother and uncle – my mother worked at a cafe and my uncle played in an orchestra. We travelled a lot when I was younger, seeing all over the place, but then my uncle passed away from plague and – since he was really the only person I got along with – I drifted away from a lot of people. None of my former friends really cared, and once I drifted, I got replaced – I was just an innocent little butterfly to them. I just wanted to keep peace, I didn't mind, but I just wanted someone to...listen to me." I told him, not meeting his gaze.

I didn't know why I was telling Crowley – out of all people – these things...Perhaps it was because he listened.

"That's unfortunate." He told me, the genuine empathy in his voice just showing.

I sat up, "Tell me more about yourself. You said that most of your demons don't like you – tell me more."

Crowley looked at me for a moment, slightly confused as to why anyone would want to listen to what he had to say. His gaze softened slightly and he begun telling me everything, like he'd kept it all bound in chains and let it free, only for me.

Odd, Sam had told me he wouldn't do this. Did he _trust_ in me – a pathetic, weeping Angel?

I listened to every word, every syllable, every single letter. He may've been the King but he deserved someone to listen to him for once, because from what I could gather, not a lot of people did.

Then he told me stories. Funny stories with dark humour – my kind of humour. I hadn't laughed in so long; it was good to feel like this again.

* * *

It had been hours since I'd been left with him, and it was clear to me that he wasn't as bad as everyone made him out to be.

But then I heard the door fling open and the guys came back and they looked to me, then Crowley. Dean stepped forth and scratched up some of the Devil's Trap, "Go." Dean hissed.

Crowley exited the trap and looked back to me, "I'll see you around, Tariel." He told me with a smirk.

"See ya, Crowley." I said with a small smile. I did wish that I'd see him again.

Crowley disappeared and I walked away, trying to hold in giggles. I walked into the Bunker and to Mazalel's room.

"Thank goodness you're okay." She murmured, getting up and hugging me, "Why are you giggling? You were just with the King of Hell."

"I know, but he was okay. He told me funny stories." I laughed, remembering them.

"He was _okay_? This _is_ the King of Hell we're talking about right?"

"Yeah but he didn't treat me like dirt." I said simply, pulling away and going to my room


	4. Letters

I walked down the hall to my room, past Dean and Sam's room. I could hear music playing from Dean's room as I passed, it sounded like some guitar, "Back in black, I hit the sack..." The song continued, but I ignored it. I needed to look up those other songs.

As I walked into my room, I noticed Sam's laptop sitting on my bed. I'd asked to borrow it earlier so I could look these songs up. Cas and Mazalel were

I flipped it on and after a few moments of start up, I got to the search bar. Still getting used to the technology, I slowly typed in the name of Adam's Song.

My thoughts kept wandering back to Crowley. It was wrong that I was saying I was on good terms with a demon. This was just bad. What would the Winchesters, Cas and Mazalel think if I furthered our friendship?

Speak of the Devil, a note appeared on my bed. It was an envelope of golden old paper with 'Tariel' written on the front of it in red pen. Well, I _hoped_ it was pen.

Cautiously, I opened the letter as I waited for the song to load.

_Dear Tariel,_

_Lovely to chat with you today – you seem like an Angel I can stand. The rest are bloody imbeciles._

_Got anymore poetry I could read? If so, pop it in this envelope and it will send right back to me immediately._

_\- Crowley_

Crowley wanted to read more of my poetry? Curiously, I wrote under the letter.

_Dear Crowley,_

_It was pleasant to meet you as well. I'll send you some poetry but please send them back – they're my only copies._

_\- Tariel_

I leaned over to my bedside table and looked through one of the drawers, bringing up 2 sheets of poetry. I put them in the envelope and sealed it once again. The envelope disappeared from my hands instantly, and my gaze focused back to the screen as the song started playing.

After that song had ended, the envelope returned, poems inside. I smiled softly, looking at the bottom of the letter, which simply said 'beautiful'.

I was touched by the gesture of the letter, but knew it must've been out of character. Unless he trusted me – like he would another demon. It made me itch with anxiety.

Confused and already preoccupied, I got back to looking up the songs.

I decided it would be better if I didn't tell anyone about the letter – after all, Crowley was the King of the Damned, the epitome of evil wrapped in a fine looking suit.

I sighed, letting my head fall back to the mattress. It was around dusk – the Winchesters were out getting food, so I was alone here.

Until there was a call from upstairs, "Tariel! Food!" Sam called. I turned off the laptop and carried it out and to him as I saw Dean sitting down to a burger and beer. Sam looked through the plastic bag he had, bringing out a salad in a plastic bowl, and he looked to me, "I didn't know what to get you so I just got you a Panini." He passed me a wrapped sandwich like thing.

"What's in it?"

"Uh, cheese, chicken, lettuce..."

"Okay. Thank you." I said, taking the Panini and sitting at the table, "Where are Castiel and Mazalel?"

"Cas is trying to win over Mazalel's affections with a date." Dean answered, mouth half full with a burger.

"May I ask you guys some stuff?" I asked, settling into the wooden chair.

"Sure, what do you need to know?" Sam agreed helpfully.

"What's the deal with Crowley? He wasn't originally a demon, was he?" I asked curiously.

Sam didn't judge me for wanting to know more about Crowley as he continued with answering my question, "No, he was a human named Fergus McLeod. He was a tailor. He sold his soul for...Um..."

"Yes?"

"An extra three inches of...Below waist...stuff." Sam answered uneasily. My eyes widened in slight surprise and I signaled for him to continue, "Once he died, he was sent to Hell and tortured. He then became Crowley."

"You missed a part. Fergus had a son he treated like crap. He was an alcoholic and he didn't care about his son." Dean interjected.

"Crowley had a son?" I asked, again surprised, "Do you think he treated his son that way because of the mother maybe?" I suggested.

Dean shrugged, "Maybe."

"Demons don't show weakness or emotion really, do they?" I asked.

"Demons _can _care but most only show emotion with human blood." Dean answered, "Crowley had it once."

"It was weird to see him like that." Sam murmured.

"Can I see?" I asked. They looked at me oddly, "Oh right, sorry, Angel thing. We can see your memories if they're clear enough." I explained.

"Oh, uh, sure." Sam agreed. He sat next to me and I placed two fingers against his forehead, accessing his memories.

_I saw everything that had to do with Crowley being injected with blood. And I saw a lady with fiery red hair punching Crowley in the face. I winced when I saw that. _

_Once that was all said and done, Crowley started spitting out nonsense._

"_Are you joking? I just saved your life." Crowley remarked as Sam stopped spray painting a Devil's trap._

_Sam laughed, "Seriously?"_

"_Seriously? Me, seriously? We just shared a foxhole, you and I. We beat back the Tet Offensive, outrun the -the Rape of Nanking together! And still you're gonna do me like this?!" Crowley asked angrily. There was something he was masking, and to me it seemed he was…Upset._

_Sam walked over to Crowley and pulled his head to the side, sticking the needle filled with human blood into Crowley's neck, earning a wail from him. _

"Band of Brothers_? _The Pacific_? None of this means anything to you?" This nonsense was most probably a side effect of the human blood, "All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once? Girls? You're my Marnie, Moose. A-and Hannah - she just -she needs to be loved. She deserves it, don't we all?"Crowley was becoming less nonsensical and more emotional. It was sad to see him like that, so weak and helpless. This King of Monsters spilling out what was once locked in his head, "You, me-we deserve to be loved." _

"_I deserve to be loved!" He yelled out at Sam in something so raw and emotional it made me feel sympathetic for him. I watched on, Crowley covered in blood and beaten, his emotions showing themselves for the first time in ages. "I just want to be loved."_

I got out of Sam's memories, stunned and saddened. There was this small part of me that wanted to console him when I had seen him in Sam's memories – but I couldn't do that.

Crowley most probably never felt like that anymore.


	5. Deal

Jack the Ripper was still nowhere to be found. Nothing had come up over the past few days. Castiel and Mazalel had been spending more and more time together, so I was third wheeling the whole time. I'd only been listening to songs and such, writing poetry and keeping out of people's way.

It was time to take matters into my own hands –I had to make a deal with a demon to gain knowledge of where he was. I wandered outside one night and went to the same shack I had been in days prior. I decided it was best if I summoned Crowley - since, a Sam had told me, he was the former King of the Crossroads.

Once I had, I looked up to see Crowley standing in front of me, "Tariel," Crowley greeted me, slightly surprised. "So, summoning me now?" He asked, walking around the space and snapping his fingers. A glass appeared in his hand filled with whiskey.

"I'd like to make a deal." I told him nervously.

"You know this will cost your soul, correct, Fawn?" He asked me, taking a sip from his glass.

I chuckled nervously, knowing this idea wouldn't work, "See, that's the thing. I'd rather not give that up...But I can exchange any information with you. I'll tell you whatever you want." I said with a nervous chuckle, backing away slowly.

Crowley looked up at me, tilting his head. He shut his eyes, inhaling a sharp breath through gritted teeth, trying to figure out to agree or not, "Your death." He said once he stopped suddenly.

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"I want information on your death." Crowley told me seriously, finishing the glass and snapping his fingers as it disappeared.

"Really?" I asked curiously.

"You said 'any information', Tariel. That's information I want, and why? You refused to tell me the last time we met." Crowley told me.

I nodded, "Sure." I agreed.

"But only when I ask."

"Pardon?"

"I don't have the time to listen to your death now. I'll call when."

"Okay."

"Right, now that we have settled, what do you need?" Crowley asked.

"I need to know the whereabouts of Jack the Ripper, please." I told him nervously.

Crowley nodded, "Jack the Ripper, you'll find him in a little town a few miles south of here." Crowley told me. He snapped up a map and passed it to me, and I folded it, placing it in my inner coat pocket.

"Thank you, Crowley." I murmured, turning away from the King of Hell.

"Where are you going?" Crowley asked.

"Back to the Winchesters and Cas and Mazalel." I told him, not meeting his gaze.

"Sweetheart," He chuckled, using his telekinesis and pulling me closer. I shuddered until I was face to face with him, "We have to end the deal."

"What do you mean?" I asked, still shuddering.

Crowley just smiled, "Well, dear Tariel, the way I work is that – when I make a deal, which is rare considering I'm the King, now – I seal a deal with a kiss." He told me.

I swallowed my fear, "O-okay." I agreed, "Don't expect it to be good." I murmured.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

"I haven't kissed before, or been kissed." I told him shyly.

Crowley tilted his head slightly, "Really? Oh. Well, it will be my pleasure to be your first kiss." He told me, snapping his fingers. The room went into darkness until candles lit themselves. I could make out his face from the candlelight as he offered me a ruby red rose with a small smile.

I took it from him cautiously, touched by the gesture, "Crowley, you don't have to-"

"No, it's your first kiss. It has to be special. I may be the King of Hell but it doesn't mean I can't be romantic...At times." He told me. I just nodded, "Just follow, okay?" He asked. I nodded again and he snaked a hand onto my waist and the other on my jawline. He pulled me closer and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me.

I felt myself smiling but I stopped myself. This was _Crowley_, I shouldn't have been smiling. He was gentle and his lips tasted of the whiskey he'd been drinking, and I could feel his smile. I was enjoying this as I clutched the rose he'd given me in my hand, smiling back softly.

I mentally slapped myself as he pulled away. "Wasn't too bad, Tariel."

"Thanks?" I said, slightly confused.

He smiled, "You're not bad for an Angel, Tariel. You actually treat me nicely." He told me.

I smiled back, "I think everyone deserves to be treated with at least a little kindness. They've all got stories behind what they do." I told him.

"If they ask where you got the map from, just say you did some calculations. I'll see you around." He told me as he disappeared. The candles went out and the light returned, and I stood alone in the empty room, the taste of his lips still on my quivering ones and a red rose in my hand, sharing the same colour of my cheeks.

I appeared back at the bunker in my room, only to see Mazalel sitting on my bed and Castiel looking through some of my poetry. They looked up and Mazalel scowled at me, "Where have you been?"

"I got the information on Jack the Ripper's whereabouts." I said, pulling out the map and handing it to her. She peered over it with a smile.

"Where did you get this?" Castiel asked after he took it from Mazalel.

"I did some calculations. He's been showing up in these particular spots, so I tried to find something in common with them. They all start with J. The last spot that starts with J is here." I pointed to the place on the map.

Castiel and Mazalel nodded, "We gotta go, now. Thanks Tariel." Castiel said, standing with Mazalel.

"No problem." I smiled and watched as they left to go to the brothers. I wandered back to my room and waited till they had left.

Once they had left, I entered the kitchen and took a tall glass from the cupboard, filling it with water and walking back to my room. I put the glass on my bedside table and put the rose in it, changing into a blue nightgown and crawling into bed.

* * *

**Crowley's POV**

I paced my room that evening, my thoughts wandering back to Tariel. And I knew exactly why: she treated me differently. She listened to me, perhaps she even cared. I had enjoyed that kiss, possibly because I was with her – someone I think I could say I was on good terms with.

Why did I care? I was rid of human blood, I shouldn't have cared. Then why _did_ I care?

I flopped down into my chair, drumming my fingers on the desk. Why did I even think about her? She was on the side of the Winchesters – they were probably telling her that I was not to be trusted right now. Well, every chance I had of having Tariel being on a good basis with me had disappeared into smoke by now.


	6. The Dream Dictionary

**Hi,**

**In this chapter, the book 'Zolar's Encyclopedia &amp; Dictionary of Dreams' is used in reference and guide. The book itself is actually quite interesting. I just need to say I don't own that, either.**

**I own nothing. Except Mazalel and Tariel.**

* * *

I awoke the next morning to see Castiel and Mazalel huddled closely in Mazalel's room. I assumed the mission went well as I went back to my room and pulled out the letter, writing on it.

_Dear Crowley,_

_Thank you for the map. We really needed it._

_\- Tariel_

It disappeared from my hands quickly, and with a jolt of unexpectedness, I got up and made my way outside, deciding it'd be good if I went for a walk. It was still early, so no one would notice I wasn't there as they'd still be asleep.

The early morning sun was colouring the sky with pale-dark blue – the kind of blue you'd get as the sun was just rising on a rainy day. It was drizzling, the droplets thudding against my back, face and hair. The fat droplets plodded onto the plump green tree leaves, trailing down their spine only to land on another leaf.

"Thank you for the letter. Nice to know one of my clients has manners." I heard a voice say from behind me. I stopped in my tracks and turned on my heels, seeing Crowley holding the letter in-between his fingers. He stood under a large black umbrella, overcoat unbuttoned and the buttons slightly shimmering – this told me he must've opened the umbrella after he'd stepped in the rain. He wore a small smirk and his free hand was shoved into his pocket.

I smiled, "Hi." I greeted, tugging on my coat as a cold ind blew past me, reminding me I'd most probably get a cold from my walk in the rain – it was very much worth it though.

"Hello, Tariel," He replied, standing aside a little, leaving some space under the umbrella, "I imagine you'd like to get out of the rain?" He asked, ushering to the space beside him.

"No, I'm fine," I declined his offer, "I like the rain – I haven't felt it in a while. But thank you for the offer."

Crowley just shrugged, "Your choice." He said. He walked over to me as I kept walking.

"So what's it like?" I asked as we kept walking along the path, the sun still not fully raised.

"What do you mean?" Crowley asked, unsure of what I was talking about.

"Oh, sorry, Hell. What's it like?" I explained.

"Oh it's quite awful. It's cold sometimes, hot others. There isn't one nice place there. Well except where I live, of course. That's the only place in the Pit which is remotely built up. But that's necessary for me to live somewhere adequate – I _am_ the King, after all." He remarked proudly.

"And what's that like?" I asked curiously.

"Stressful at times. But I like being in power, so all is well." Crowley grinned, "Your poems were very good, Tariel. You're very talented."

"Thanks." I smiled softly.

The rain soon started to get heavier. It was getting loud and heavy, so I took refuge under Crowley's umbrella. The sky was darkening with gray clouds.

As we kept walking, Crowley spoke, "Is being a human-turned-Angel any different from a regular Angel?"

"Well," I started, "We still need to eat and sleep. We still have bodily functions and we still feel pain. Dean once told me he stabbed Cas when he first met him – I'd still be affected like a regular human. Other than those things, I'm just another Angel, basically."

Crowley didn't respond, he just listened. The rain was now bucketing down, the sky swirling with gray clouds, the air cold and light. I heard thunder rumbling in the distance, like there was an argument up in Heaven, raging on as the tears of the sky doused the earth.

"I think I should go," I told him, raising my voice a little over the blistering sound of the rain and thunder, "They'll be up soon."

"Well, until we meet again, Tariel," Crowley said, "Toodles."

"Till then." I said. And with a flutter of wings, I left.

* * *

I arrived back at the bunker, wet and cold. I was in the kitchen, Dean preparing his breakfast. He looked up to me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Where were you?"

"I was on a walk." I answered.

"Monsoon out there?" He asked dryly.

"Might be."

"There's some towels in the cupboard and a clothes dryer in the laundry." Dean told me helpfully, pointing down the hall to the laundry.

"Thanks." I said, going to grab a towel and going to my room.

* * *

The day went on as it usually would – Sam and Dean would look for another Hellish thing to hunt, Cas, Mazalel and I would try to help but we ended up leaving it to the experienced hunters.

Cas and Mazalel spent most of their days together. I didn't mind as much as I used to – they deserved their time together, and besides, it made me happy to see them together.

* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night to the silence of my room and a dream whirring itself in my head. The room was pitch black and I was alone.

But the dream kept bugging me.

I had been in a large factory type place. I had been conversing with lost faces that I could hardly remember until I found myself owning a small green and blue hummingbird, winding itself past my ears and landing on my finger.

I needed to find out what it meant. Every dream meant something – and I didn't like waiting. I quietly got out of bed, going to the library and flicking on the light.

I ran over to the book case and checked the book titles, coming across one I would need. _Zolar's __Encyclopedia__ &amp; Dictionary of Dreams._

I flipped open the pages, my nose filling with a musky old book scent which I found homey and familiar. I flipped the pages, reciting the alphabet in my head, looking for hummingbird.

_HUMMINGBIRDS:_

_Owning a hummingbird: Will travel to a foreign place_

_So, in the dream I owned a hummingbird, that means I'll be going somewhere. _I thought to myself.

The question was, though, where?


	7. All Alone

I trailed into the kitchen in the morning, seeing Dean and Sam already dressed and packing duffle bags on the table. I walked over and Sam looked to me, "Tariel could you grab my laptop from my room for me?" He asked.

"Where are you-"

"Thanks." Sam didn't realize I had been saying anything as he kept packing. I rolled my eyes and trailed to his room, grabbing his laptop and going back, handing it to him.

"As I was saying, where are you going?" I asked as they kept packing.

"Business as usual – a few Wendigos across the country – we'll be gone for a couple days." Dean explained, chucking a few match boxes into the bag and zipping it up.

"Can I come?" I asked eagerly. Maybe this was the foreign place my dreams had told me about.

It would be very exciting – the brothers could teach me about hunting. I wouldn't want to do much – and I'm sure they wouldn't want me to. Maybe just some research.

"No." Dean growled, "You're like a flower, Tariel. You're...not exactly the 'hunting' type." Dean told me honestly.

"I could be," I sneered, "I could be brave. I could do that stuff."

"Really?" Dean sniggered, "Sure you could."

"Fine." I huffed, "Couldn't I just come and do some research for you or something?"

"That's what Sammy's for." He ruffled his brother's hair, only for Sam to push him away.

"So we just have to stay here?" I asked, disappointed.

"Yep. Do whatever Angels do. Go fly somewhere, I don't know." Dean slung the bag on his shoulder, going to the door, Sam following, "We'll be back in a week or so."

Sam chucked me a phone, and I caught it, "Our number's in there – in case of an emergency. My old laptop is under my bed in case you wanna search stuff."

"O-okay." I nodded as he closed the door with a thud.

Now there was only silence. I was stuck here for a week – how fun.

I dashed to Cas and Mazalel's room to already see them gone, a note on the bed. I opened it with a short sigh, scanning through the reading.

_I'm sorry, Tariel, I had to check on the orphans from the old orphanage. _

_I need to make sure they're ok. Castiel came with me._

_We'll be gone for three days._

_Sorry – Mazalel_

Just perfect – I was here, alone for at least three more days. I had probably been asleep when they left, I guessed. I couldn't go out and leave this place unguarded. I looked at the phone in my other hand.

"No, it wouldn't work." I mumbled, my mind racing to an idea. _It could work – perhaps. _I thought, flipping the phone open, dialling '666' into the phone.

He was the only one I could talk to, anyway.

One ring. Two rings. Three. Four. Five, "Too busy inflicting pain to answer. Leave a message." Crowley's voicemail rung in my ear.

There was a short beep, then silence, "Oh, um, Crowley, it's me, Tariel. I was wondering if we could talk sometime? Um, call back on this number. Bye." I hung up the phone, going to Sam's room to get his old laptop.

* * *

**Crowley's POV**

I arrived back at my office from my favourite past time – torturing souls. I pulled off the once crisp white apron, now soaked in crimson red blood splatters, and snapped my fingers, sending it away. I noticed my phone was bright, so I unlocked it and saw I had a missed message.

"Probably just some idiot needing help with deals," I mumbled as I accessed the call. Oh good, it was an unknown number – probably a kid who wanted to try out the old '666' trick. This would be fun.

To my surprise, it was the little Fawn I knew, "Oh, um, Crowley, it's me, Tariel. I was wondering if we could talk sometime? Um, call back on this number. Bye."

I smirked, dialling back the number and settling into my chair, hearing the phone ringing a few times before a pick up, "Hello?"

"Tariel, it's Crowley." I greeted.

"Really? Oh, hi." She replied.

"You wanted to talk?" I reminded her.

"Yes. I'm so bored! Sam and Dean are on a hunt and they wouldn't let me come and Castiel and Mazalel just left. I just third wheel the whole time and now I'm alone for a week or so." She explained, heaving a sigh.

"Sounds like quite a problem."

"It is." She answered gloomily, "How's Hell?

"It's fine, I guess. Bloody imbeciles running around causing terror, annoying lost demons trying to ask for help with deals and so forth." I answered.

"Sounds annoying."

"Know what? You should visit me here."

"Me? In Hell?" She laughed, trying to hide her nervousness, "Funny."

"I'm perfectly serious, Tariel. No one would hurt you, and if they did, they'd be personally tortured by myself." I assured.

"I-"

"I'll take that as a yes. Be outside the bunker in 10 minutes or so."

"But-"

"See you then, Tariel." I smiled, hanging up.

* * *

**Tariel's POV**

This must've been the foreign place the dreams were telling me about. I stared around the room, still sitting on Sam's bed with his old laptop, _And The Snakes Start To Sing_, another song I had found, playing from it.

I didn't really want to go – Hell was the stuff of nightmares. It was dark and full of fire and evil, it was terrifying. Just the thought of it made me shiver with anxiety. But I would be with Crowley, and he was the safest to be around in Hell, being the King and all.

I shut off the laptop and pulled on my black coat, leaving the room and ascending the stairs to get out of the Bunker to stand in the crisp, cold air, the floor littered with leaves and the gray concrete power outlet which stood above the Bunker next to me. I rubbed my hands together with the cold, the wind screaming undecipherable secrets as it blew past my ear.

"Hello little Fawn." Crowley's voice filled my ears and I looked up to see him standing in front of me.

"Why do you call me that?" I asked.

"Because, a fawn is a baby deer. You remind me of one. Sam is Moose because, well, he practically is one, and Dean is squirrel, which is a reference to something you've probably never heard of." Crowley informed, drinking in the scent of the air, "Ready to go?"

"I'm still not sure about this, Crowley." I admitted nervously.

"We'll stay away from the more...Intense areas." He assured.

"Fine." I nodded as he took my hand, snapping his fingers and transporting us away.


	8. Rufus

**Tariel's POV**

When Crowley let go of my hand and the feeling of spinning stopped, I looked around.

Hell was dark and rivers of blood trailed on either side of the walkway we stood on, pillar-mounted torches with fire burning from them lighted the way, showing gates ahead. Crowley walked forth and I followed cautiously.

"So, rivers of blood," I started, looking at the crimson red liquid alongside us, "Has anyone ever fallen in?"

Crowley looked back to me and chuckled, "If you classify falling as an act where they can be pushed, then yes."

"Have _you_ ever pushed anyone in?" I asked.

"I'm surrounded by so many morons here, Tariel, what do you think?" He smirked, looking back ahead as we got to the gates. I shook my head, peering into the river again before getting to the gates as they opened.

This was awful – it was like the inside of an old abandoned castle, except there were sounds of mourning, wailing souls everywhere, "I thought you changed it – as Castiel once told me."

"Oh I did, for a little while. Had a massive line. But then I decided to instil true fear again. This way, this is an awful area." Crowley turned, exiting and walking up a few iron steps onto a rickety iron bridge into the sky. I followed, the butterflies in my stomach swirling.

As we walked along the bridge, I noticed what was around me. The sky was pitch black, dark gray clouds swirling in the sky, etching lightning onto the land below. I looked beneath us to see wild waves coursing through a gorge, crashing against shores and dragging souls with it. There was a deep pit far off somewhere else, flames burning brightly, cries echoing loudly.

I heard loud growling and barks from atop a perch of a cliff, a few glinting collars in the distance, but no clearly visible dogs, except for pairs of glowing red eyes.

"Hellhounds," Crowley explained, "My personal one will be among them." Crowley whistled a short, high whistle. I looked back to the Hellhounds, now seeing them faintly.

I saw one raise its ears, looking around. It looked to Crowley and barked loudly, running off from the others.

"Might want to stand back." Crowley advised, turning to look back at where we had come. I pressed against the railing, sliding behind Crowley and standing back.

I watched as there came a loud pounding of feet. I saw the two red eyes appear, a fanged collar around the Hellhound's neck, figure whispery and brutal. It bounded toward Crowley, its panting and loud, echoing barks making me shiver.

"Stay!" Crowley commanded to the hound, his own voice echoing as the dog halted. I watched as the hound stood perfectly still, breathing through its nose, like a statue.

Crowley turned back to me, "Tariel, this is my Hellhound, Rufus." Crowley stood next to the dog, facing me.

The hound came just above Crowley's hip, his paws were huge and his build was quite muscular. He started to growl, showing needle sharp fangs.

"Rufus!" Crowley scolded, "Tariel is good." He growled to him.

Rufus's growling stopped and his eyes fell back to Crowley for assurance he'd done well. Crowley patted his head as Rufus stepped forth with pounding paws.

"Hold out your hand." Crowley told me.

"Are you crazy?" I asked nervously.

"He'll recognize your scent. He knows you're on my good side, so if he smells that and he's trying to kill you, for example, he'll stop." He explained nonchalantly.

I cautiously held out my hand and Rufus pressed his nose to it. His nose was wet and as cold as ice, chilling me to the core. Rufus sniffed my hand, then trailed his nose up my arm, "Crouch down." Crowley instructed. I crouched and felt Rufus sniffing my hair. He pulled away and bowed his head.

"He needs to know you accept him," He told me, "Pet him."

I cautiously pet Rufus. He was like his nose – except not wet, just cold. I stroked and ruffled the icy fur on his head.

"Good." Crowley grinned as I stood, Rufus going back to his master, "Tariel, if you ever find yourself needing him, just a high pitched whistle." Crowley instructed.

I nodded and Crowley started walking ahead, Rufus scampering off.

Crowley led me down some stairs and we appeared in a dungeon like place, going down more stairs to what appeared to be a torture room, "Sam killed my other Hellhound - that one was bigger than Rufus. But Rufus suffices." Crowley said, turning to a wall of cells where people lay.

There were only two in the cells – one I recognized.

"Elizabeth?" I stared at her in disbelief, walking to the cell.

Elizabeth's golden hair was faded and hate clung to her blue eyes. She hadn't aged much, 2 or 3 years at most.

"Bitch?" She asked back rudely with hate.

"That's no way to talk to an Angel, Elizabeth." Crowley walked forth and told her condescendingly, "You should know better than to speak that way to my friends."

I stood back and Crowley snapped her out of the cell and into a chair, buckling her ankles and wrists to it. Crowley snapped up a crisp white apron and looked back to me, "Weapon of choice, Tariel?"

"Are you going to-"

"Punish her? Of course." He answered nonchalantly.

I looked at the table beside him and saw different kinds of weapons, and I picked up a short knife, handing it to Crowley, "Nice choice." He murmured, peering at the knife. He smirked and stabbed it into her and Elizabeth let out a loud scream, writhing around.

As much as it was an awful thing, it made me smirk. Elizabeth – that _swine_ I knew – was finally getting her just desserts. Crowley took it out of her and wiped the blood on his apron and I stepped forward.

"Next?" He asked, looking back to me.

I smiled down at Elizabeth, "You know, this is for all those times you treated me like dirt." I told her, speaking to her in a way one would to a less intelligent person.

"Piss off." She hissed.

I looked around the room, walking over to a vial of black liquid, "What's this?" I asked, holding it up.

"Oh that stuff is amazing. It's werewolf blood mixed with demon blood. It gives one the most awful stomach cramps, makes them spit up blood and makes their mind numb with pain. Doesn't kill them but it's torture enough." He explained with a smirk.

I handed the vial to him and he popped the cork off, pulling down Elizabeth's jaw and digging his nails in as he tilted her head back, his eyes cold.

Elizabeth started wincing and screaming in pain and agony, every few seconds spitting up some blood. Crowley turned to me, "Nice choice. This shall be our dirty little secret."


	9. Grudge

**Tariel's POV**

It was late at night and I found myself thinking about the day I had spent yesterday with Crowley. I had been thinking about him more than usual. I had spent today alone, looking up songs and reading, sending the occasional letter to Crowley.

He treated me with respect and with equality. I knew it was because we had gotten along that day I vouched to stay behind with him. It made me anxious.

* * *

I found myself hearing my name being shouted around 2 in the morning, and I rolled out of bed quickly, trying to place the voice calling out my name.

"Tariel!" They kept shouting. It was Crowley, and he sounded quite annoyed, but urgent at the same time. He shouted at me where he was. I was beginning to worry quickly.

I quickly got dressed, jumping into my jeans and poking my head through the wrong hole of my shirt, quickly fixing it. _What if he's with a hunter?_ I thought. What _if they're trying to kill him?_ I panicked even more. I would need Rufus for this one.

The question was if he could hear me from down there in Hell, running through the trees, shaking the ground beneath him. There was only one way to find out, so I quickly whistled a short, high pitched whistle to get him here. I waited for a few moments until I heard growling and barking from outside, and a grin spread across my face. I raced out of the bunker and saw Rufus sitting next to a tree, his hot breath coming out as white mist, claws unsheathed and fanged collar glowing in the moonlight. His ears rose when he saw me, running forward and skidding to a halt, wagging his tail and panting.

I crouched slightly, "Hey Rufus," I rubbed his head and he panted, his tongue hanging out limply, "I think your master's in trouble, we gotta go get him." I told him. He slipped into protective mode and bared his fangs, growling. I took him by the collar and with a flap of wings started off.

We arrived in a small wooden house, Crowley sitting, bound in ropes, in a chair in the middle of a trap, "Hello Tariel," Crowley greeted, seeing Rufus, "Rufus! My boy! Come to see off the nasty man who's trying to kill your master?" He asked. He looked back to me, "The blundering thick head that got me is in the other room now, help me-"

"Who are you?" A new voice greeted me as I whipped around to see a tall, chubby, muscular man staring back at me. He wore dark, tattered jeans and an old Ramones shirt, holding a shotgun at his side and leaning against the door frame.

"I am Tariel, an Angel. You are?" I asked, my eyes narrowing protectively.

"Rupert, a hunter. What are you doing here?" He growled, "I'm trying to deal with the King of Hell here." He threw his hand at Crowley, who sat in the chair, rolling his eyes.

"For what gain?" I asked, drawing out my angel blade.

"This guy sent one of his demons against my brother-"

"Your brother dearest attacked me!" Crowley interjected.

"Is your brother still alive?" I asked.

"No!" Rupert growled.

"How long ago was this?" I asked calmly.

"Three years." He mumbled.

"Three years? You are holding a large grudge. You need to get up and carry on." I told him, "Sure, Crowley shouldn't of done that but you just-just get over it."

"Hmmm, no. You just don't let that stuff go. Move." Rupert went to shove me to the side, but I caught my footing and Rufus leapt on him, pinning him to the ground.

"Rupert, this is Rufus. He doesn't take kindly to people trying to hurt his master." I explained, stalking over. Rufus growled in Rupert's face.

"How did you, an Angel, befriend Crowley?" He asked in disbelief.

"Just happened." I answered, going to Crowley and undoing the ropes with the blade and he soon stood, "Should we go?" I asked.

"Yes, we should," Crowley agreed, "Rufus!" He called. Rufus leapt off of Rupert, tearing off a part of his jean leg.

"Now now Rufus, we don't take jeans." Crowley told the dog in his signature smart-ass tone. Rufus scampered to us and Rupert sat up.

"Don't summon me again." Crowley hissed at him, taking my hand and Rufus's collar.

* * *

The spinning feeling lurched around us and I found we were in Crowley's home in Hell, "I'm gonna go look around." I told Crowley, leaving.

"I'll come with you." He walked alongside me and Rufus ran ahead, running into the trees as we kept walking.

"It's 2 in the morning, why do you want to go exploring?" Crowley asked as we kept walking.

"I can't sleep – I'm awake now." I answered, stepping over a root.

"I'm sorry I woke you." He mumbled.

"Don't be sorry, I'm fine." I told him.

"Thanks for coming."

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, turning back to him.

He shrugged. "Anyway, aren't Mazalel and Castiel coming back today?"

"Yes, they are. They'll probably try and get out to do something, maybe do research, that kind of thing." I explained, "What's the chance we'll see one another again?"

"We probably will, but it will be brief and only for information. We won't talk like we do." Crowley explained, a small hint of sadness in his voice.

"Yeah." I agreed as we kept exploring.

We walked along the river, the moonlight reflecting off it. The crying of the souls had softened with the night and it wasn't so bad now, "I um, I better go, I'm getting tired." I explained, "I guess this is see ya, then."

"I guess so. You'll be able to get back?"

"Yes, just getting here is the problem. See ya." I fluttered away and home, arriving in the bunker and feeling empty.

It was a terrible having to leave someone I got along with. It may've be for a short while or it may've be forever, but it all hurt the same.


	10. Goodbyes

**Tariel's POV**

As always, I was just another shadow.

Things carried on as per usual – Dean battled with his 'mark' Mazalel had informed me about (probably learning that from Cas), Sam would try and look up more things for them to do, and Castiel would help, Mazalel helping him when he needed.

I did nothing. I was useless.

* * *

Rain and lightning pummelled the earth with loud cracks and whips of wind, thunder and rain. I sat outside under a tree, a few drops hitting my shoulders and head.

3 weeks had passed since I had last seen Crowley, and the Winchesters had left on another case. Castiel had gone with them, leaving me and Mazalel alone.

I heard squelchy footsteps and looked up to see Mazalel standing under an umbrella , wearing big gumboots and a poncho, "Hey," She greeted, looking up, "Not a good night for star gazing, huh?" She asked.

I chuckled, "Guess not." I shrugged.

"You wanna come inside? I-I got some food." She offered.

"Sure." I got up and she raced over, almost slipping in the mud. I rolled up the legs of my jeans, "So much for these boots." I mumbled as we walked back to the Bunker.

Sam had given me his old laptop, stating that I got more use from it than he did. Mazalel sat me down at the kitchen table and took a Panini from a brown paper bag, passing me a plastic bottle of water.

"Gotten any poetry done lately?" Mazalel piped up as she took a sandwich from the bag.

"Not really. I've been working on parts here and there but nothing special as of late." I answered, taking a sip from my water, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course, what's on your mind?" She asked helpfully.

I was in a prison of discontent and the feeling of uselessness here. Boredom chimed every day with the siren song of longing to be somewhere else accompanying it.

"I want to leave." I admitted, "I do nothing. Hell, I'm just an observer. I'm trapped in a cage of anxious thoughts, swirling around the topic of if I should stay here or leave. And I've decided that I want to leave."

Mazalel gave me a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Mazalel, don't be sorry. I'll leave when the Winchesters get back." I informed.'

"Do you know where you'll go? I mean, it's not wise to go home now, is it?" She reminded me.

"It most certainly isn't." I agreed, "I'll try and go somewhere else, maybe get a job, I don't know." I answered nonchalantly.

We ate in silence, Mazalel tense with the idea of me leaving. We heard loud footsteps and the doors of the Bunker opening. Castiel appeared in the kitchen, drenched in rain, "How was the hunt?" Mazalel asked as she stood.

"It was fine. I saw a cat licking a child's ice cream that had fallen on the pavement." Castiel told her simply.

She shook her head, "Come on, you're drenched, let's find some towels." She took his hand caringly and led him away.

Dean and Sam entered the kitchen, hair and clothe dripping. Sam's long hair was stringy and darker in colour. I shook my head, "How'd it go?"

"It was fine." Sam answered.

"Um, can I talk about something?" I asked them. They nodded, sitting across the table from me, "I...Well, I think I should go. I mean, you've already got Mazalel now; it'd be a bit big if I were still here. Besides, I do nothing beneficial here anyway, it'd be better."

Sam and Dean nodded, understanding where I was coming from, "Well, uh," Dean cleared his throat, "It's been nice having you with us, Tariel."

"Thanks for everything. I'll be leaving in the morning." I informed.

They both nodded solemnly.

I stood, trailing off to my room, grabbing out the phone Sam had lent me, which I still hadn't returned. I quickly shut my door and dialled '666', hoping Crowley would pick up.

We had only been sending brief letters to each other as Dean and Sam where often at the Bunker. If they had known I was sending letters to Crowley, they would've lost it.

One ring, two rings, three rings, "This is the King." He answered.

"It's me." I greeted.

"Oh hello Tariel. Need something?" He asked.

"Yes, I, um, I'm leaving the Winchesters. I don't feel of any use here. Know anywhere where I could go?" I asked meekly.

"You could come stay with me, if you want." He offered.

"I don't know," I mumbled, "I couldn't, no."

"Are you sure? You could do whatever you wanted in the day and just return in the evenings." He tried swaying me.

I hesitated, "Are you sure you'd be fine with that?" I asked.

"Of course, that's why I offered."

I sighed, "Thank you, I would like that."

"Great." I could sense something of a smile on the other end.

"Could you get me tomorrow?"

"Sure. Around 9 ish?" He suggested.

"9:30 would be better. I'll probably just be on the outskirts of the forest." I told him.

"Right, I'll see you then, Tariel."

"Thank you again."

"No problem." He hung up.

I sighed, looking around my room and grabbing my messenger bag, packing the laptop from Sam, my poems, notebook and pen. I put the bag ready for the morning on my desk and crawled under the sheets.

* * *

After saying my goodbyes and giving the phone back to Sam (making sure to clear its history), I stepped out into the rain of the morning, going to the outskirts of the forest with my messenger bag swung on my shoulder, sticking to the trees as the rain fell like stars.

"Not too cold, are you?" Crowley asked, appearing before me.

I jumped a little with the suddenness of his appearance, but then smiled, "No, no I'm fine."

Crowley stood aside to make room under the umbrella and I took refuge in the dry, "I decided it would be better if we spent most of the time in my mansion. There's some...Problems that I'll have to deal with back home."

I nodded, "What kind of problems?" I asked curiously.

"I'll tell you later." Crowley said quickly, taking my hand and snapping his fingers.


	11. In My Time of Dying

I woke one morning in darkness, noises coming from downstairs. I had been living here for a good six months, now, and everything seemed to be going fine. I didn't visit the Winchesters, only getting notes on how they were from Crowley. They were all fine, it seemed. And I was glad.

But I had someone else to worry about – Crowley. He never told me why he'd be off dealing with a 'misbehaving demon' or coming back with a look of worry in his eyes.

I rolled on my side, fumbling my hand on the bedside table for the phone Crowley had given me, used for music and emergency calls. I clicked the button at the topic, the time screaming at me with bright light. I shut my eyes as they watered from the brightness, but then opened them slightly, peeking at the time. 1:44 AM.

I sighed, getting out of bed and exiting my room, creeping down the dark hall and scaling down the stairs, creeping around a corner and hearing cursing. Judging by the lateness – or rather, earliness – of the day, he'd just gotten back from Hell on another late night 'errand'.

I knocked on the door, signifying my presence. I poked my head through the door to see Crowley drumming his fingers against the table, other hand stroking his chin thoughtfully, deep in thought. I didn't think he registered I was even there.

"Crowley?" I asked, taking a few tentative steps forward.

Crowley, slightly lost and confused, looked up, "Huh? Oh, Tariel, I imagine I woke you."

"Kind of." I agreed, smiling apologetically, "How's Hell? How's Rufus, did you see him?"

He smiled, "Rufus is fine. Hell, on the other hand, not so good." He said hesitantly, almost wondering if I would enquire further.

"I've asked a million times before and I'll ask again: what's wrong?" I asked, getting irritated.

"Why are you so Hell-bent – excuse the pun – on knowing, anyway?" He asked as I wandered over to a table, fetching a glass and glass-bottle of Craig, pouring some for him.

"Because it's...It's just..." I struggled to find the words and I growled in frustration. I took a breath, "It...It makes me feel crestfallen that I can't do anything to help you. And I know I probably couldn't do anything if you did tell me but..."

I picked the glass up and passed it to him, sighing in the defeat of my own mind, "I'm sorry, I just hate seeing you like this."

"You really still possess your humanity, don't you?" He asked rhetorically, "Caring...About me, out of all people."

"You're my friend. Of course I care." I answered, almost hurt that he would dare think otherwise.

Crowley smiled softly, "Thanks." He replied, eyes meeting mine.

"You're welcome." I turned, going to the door, "Good night. Or morning. Just get some rest, Crowley." I told him as I exited, going back up the hall and to my room.

**Crowley's POV**

I watched as Tariel exited the room, and it felt like the oddly _warm_ feeling of her being there departed from me. I stared blankly at the glass in my hand, taking a small sip, spreading the sips over a short period of time before exiting my office and creeping up the stairs.

She was...I had no words. I was clueless, but there was something about her. Well in all truth if I let my heart speak for once instead of my head, there were a lot of things about her.

It was months since I'd had any human blood, I should've been rid of these petty _feelings_. But there was a small part of me that didn't _want_ to be rid of them, "Bloody hell." I growled, frustrated with myself as I passed Tariel's room.

I found myself in bed after a few vague minutes, watching a slowly crackling fire with tired eyes. I shut them for a moment, and the next thing I knew, I was asleep.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of a thud from down the hall. The fire was slowly dwindling, the soft hisses filling the air. I snapped my fingers so it was roaring once more, and I clambered out of bed to investigate. It was only 2:30 in the morning, it seemed.

I walked down the hall to Tariel's room, knocking on the door, "Tariel did you hear that?" I asked.

"Yeah, it-it was just me." She called with an embarrassed laugh.

"You?" I asked, my eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

"I just fell out of bed." She called.

"Because the floor is so much more comfortable than a bed, yes good choice."

"No, I just had a bad dream, that's all." She answered, "It's nothing, really."

I hesitated, sighing, "Are you sure you're alright?"

There was a pause and then the door opened, Tariel coming to stand in front of me, "Remember when we made that deal?"

I smirked, "How could I forget?" I asked, remembering the kiss.

"Well, we made a deal, information on my death for Jack the Ripper's location," she fidgeted nervously, "I guess it's time to close that deal. I'll talk if you're willing to listen."

She looked so haunted by herself. Almost if she needed to be released of the burden that was the subject of her death.

"Yes, of course." I replied. She stepped aside to let me in and I walked in. Tariel turned on her heels and sat on the edge of her bed, patting the space beside her for me to sit. I sat down gingerly and she twiddled her thumbs, "Maybe it would be better to show you. I hate speaking of it." Her voice was already shaking. I could tell she was shy on the subject, and it seemed she was trying to hold back tears.

"And how would you do that?" I asked.

"Like this." She placed to fingers on my forehead, eyes going white. She closed them and I closed mine, feeling a shift of environment and opening my eyes.

_We were in a forest, the moon glowing with white light, a lone figure sitting against a tree. Tariel stood beside me, her eyes glued to the figure, "I was called Viola back then." She whispered._

_She cautiously stepped forward and I followed._

_The memory Tariel stood up from her place, looking to the birds and bidding them a goodnight. It was then that we heard a branch crack. Tariel – or Viola, rather – looked around, alert and a little bit of panic in her eyes. _

_Then an arrow sliced through the air, catching her in the stomach. There was no audible scream, but her eyes were screaming in pain. She was gasping for air as people ran to her, panicked. _

_Tariel clicked her fingers and I heard voices. I presumed them as Viola's thoughts._

"I could still feel blood coming out from the wound. This was all new kinds of sorrow and the tears that could be falling from my cheeks were encased in my eyes, shock keeping them in like a cage_." I heard the thoughts swirling in the air. I looked back to Tariel, who was watching on with stern cold eyes, a single, frightened tear running down her cheek._

"Death's kiss was not tender or gentle – it was painful and cold. It made me feel hated – I was by most._" This gave me an idea of what had went on in that pretty little head of hers when she'd died. Her thoughts sounded so done with it all. _

_Then the people who had shot her were leaving. I watched in anger and Tariel gritted her teeth, trying to hold in tears. She was scared and she had to watch her own death. There was something unnerving in it all._

_I looked back to Viola, whose eyes were still wide open, blood covering her once beautiful dress. Tariel looked back to me and pressed two fingers to my head, her eyes going white and I closed my eyes._

The environment changed. I opened my eyes and saw Tariel sitting beside me, shaking and wiping away tears.

"Tariel-"

"I'm fine." She fake smiled, "Really. It's just- um- it-it's nothing."

"But-"

"Crowley you've had a long day. You should rest."

I sighed, hesitating at first, but then rubbing her back, trying to be comforting. It wasn't my forte but it was what she needed at the time, "Good night, Tariel."

She sniffled, "Night."

I exited the room, shutting the door. I did fake footsteps and stayed at her door for a little bit, only to hear whimpering and muffled crying.

_Should I go in there?_ I asked myself. After a small debate with myself, I knocked on the door, "Tariel are you sure you're okay?"

There was a delayed answer, "No." She whimpered.

I went in only to see her hugging her knees. I clicked my fingers and produced a box of tissues, offering them to her. I sat next to her as she sat up, taking a tissue from the box. I tried to be comforting again and rubbed her back as she patted her eyes dry.

After a few moments of crying that began to ease, I spoke up, "Are you sure you're going to be fine?"

"Yeah." She answered. I exited the room, bidding her another goodnight. As much as I hated to admit it, I _cared_.


	12. Elizabeth

**Tariel's POV**

I needed help. He just wouldn't _tell_ me.

I stood outside the door to the torture chamber in Hell. Crowley had transported me to Hell and left on business and Rufus had led me to the chamber. I pushed the door open and the hound stayed outside, keeping watch for anything mysterious.

As I walked in, the scent of blood and stale air filled my lungs. The cells were mostly empty, except for the two that held a sleeping stranger and Elizabeth. I scowled at her, but swallowed my resentment as I stepped forward, reaching up to the hook to grab a set of metal keys and walking to Elizabeth's cell.

"Hello Elizabeth," I greeted meekly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out an apple, pushing my hand tenderly through the bars and offering it to her, "Hungry?"

"It's poisoned, is it not?" She whacked the fruit out of my hand and I withdrew.

"No! No, I just need to talk." I told her. She reached back for the apple and took a tender bite, enjoying the taste and gobbling it down hungrily.

"What do you want?" She asked once she'd finished, "Let me take a guess, hmm? Crowley sent you to tell me my new torture regime?"

"No, I'm actually here without his notice," I answered, "I'm worried about him."

"You'll need to be more specific on that."

"He's been saying he's been dealing with a misbehaving demon, and he always says Hell isn't going very well." I explained as she stood.

"And you need me because...?"

"You spend a fair amount of time with him, has he brought anything up?"

Elizabeth's eyes wandered to the keys in my hand, "Let me out first."

"No." I chucked the keys behind me, the keys clattering to the ground in an almost silent room.

Elizabeth's stare was ice cold, her fingers twitched with the demand to choke me. I gulped my fear, "Why not?" She asked, running a fingernail down a bar, emitting a screechy, painful sound.

"I don't trust you." And with those four words, Elizabeth started pacing in her cell, a stalking leopard taking heavy, woeful, malicious steps to and fro.

"Come on, Viola, we were friends once," She reached out a hand and ran a fingernail down my cheek, scratching my skin, "When we were small?"

"My name is no longer Viola. It's Tariel. Viola was a scared young girl. Tariel is a strong woman who knows not to trust the big bad wolf that ruined her in a past life." I sneered.

She simply smiled, "You know, when I was a young girl, just freshly 16, I wanted power. I didn't want to be a queen or a princess, I wanted powers of the supernatural kind." She smiled, "And you know what? I also heard this myth that if you put certain things in a box and buried it in a crossroad, you'd be granted a...genie, of sorts." She smirked maliciously, lifting a finger and waving it back to herself.

It was then that I realized she'd made a deal with a crossroad demon.

"So then I tried it, and this fairly pretty girl came to me. We settled on a deal. Only shortly after your death was I taken, Viola. You went up, and I took the travel down." She lifted the keys quickly to herself, unlocking the door as I tried reaching for the keys quickly.

Elizabeth grappled my throat and slammed me against the wall, tightening. I was now struggling to breath and I could feel my lungs closing on me. Elizabeth then slammed me to the ground, and I grabbed her ankles, shaking her to the ground before I got up, catching my breath. I tried shoving her back in the cell but she slid past me, running out.

As soon as I saw her running out, I saw Rufus following and I followed after.

Elizabeth was running hard and fast, but she was weakened from torture, so I could keep up. She ran through the old castle, throwing things to block my path, but I jumped over them, keeping pace. Elizabeth soon ran out and stood near the river of blood.

"Dead end," she smiled, "This is the entrance to Hell. So, Tariel, I'm gonna fight my way to get my own vessel and get myself out of here."

"Why would I let that happen?" I asked, stepping forward and drawing out my blade. She grabbed the blade quickly and threw it aside, grabbing my wrists and pushing me into the river.

It was sticky and sickening. And I was drowning, clawing my way to the top hopelessly. I'd never learnt how to swim.

I found a ledge and gripped it, pulling myself and gasping for air, dripping and coughing up blood. Elizabeth raised her foot to step on my fingers, but she stopped midway, her skeleton glowing with light from within. She collapsed once the sound of a blade being pulled out filled the air, revealing Crowley, who had an angered expression on his face, and Rufus standing beside him.

Crowley bent down quickly, kicking Elizabeth out of the way, "Look at you; you look like you've just come out of some metal band's music video." He observed, taking my hand and pulling me out.

"Where did you-" I started to ask.

"Rufus came looking for me and brought me here." Crowley explained, passing me back the blade, "This is yours, by the way."

"Thanks." I took it gently as Crowley snapped his fingers, cleaning me up, returning me to my normal state.

"What was she even doing out anyway?" He questioned.

"I'm sorry, it was all my fault, I just needed to know something and she used her powers to get the key and I'm sorry." I turned away from him quickly.

Crowley sighed, "Well, it doesn't matter, she's dead now." He told me, facing me, "What did you need to know?"

I sighed, "I wanted to know about what was going on with you. I'm sorry but you never tell me anything and I'm anxious and I worry about you."

Crowley rubbed my back soothingly, "I appreciate that you care so much. And I didn't ever honestly think you'd go to such lengths...I think it's about time I told you."


	13. Memories

**Crowley's POV**

I walked back to my home in Hell with Tariel alongside me. Her tone was jittery, the way her hands shook and her eyes would dart to and fro from time to time. _Just look at her, she looks like she's about to have a panic attack. _I thought.

"Tariel are you sure you're alright? Falling into a river of blood isn't exactly relaxing."

"It doesn't matter, well it shouldn't matter anyway. Don't worry." She told me, shrugging it off. I still worried.

I started to think to myself again. _Why do I even care about her? She's just an Angel. I better not have those bloody _feelings_ for her, they weaken me. Angels are supposed to be inconsiderate morons. Why does she treat me – out of all people – any differently? Why does she even care about me? _

"Why do you even seem to care about me?" I asked as we kept walking.

She paused slightly, "Forgive me if I'm overstepping a line here, but I consider you a friend. And besides, I trust you." She answered.

"Blimey, don't do that. Don't ever trust a demon." I shook my head.

"But I don't trust _any _demon, I trust you."

"Why, exactly? After all that I've done, why would you?"

She took a breath, "I guess I just feel like I can. Out of all the people I know (yourself, Cas, Mazalel and the Winchesters), you're the person I've spent the most time with. Sure, Cas and Mazalel were with me up there, but I rarely talked to them. You have listened to me and helped me and trusted _me_ so I shall do the same. And I'm willing to overlook all that you've done if it means I remain your friend. I, unlike many, do trust you, so you better appreciate that." She explained.

"I do, trust me, I do. And you're right, not many do. I think you're just about the only one that does." I replied.

I watched her smile. Bloody hell, I loved putting a smile on that face of hers- no. I had to stop _feeling_. It would only drown me.

"Good." She said softly. We had arrived at my home on earth by transporting, and we walked through the doors to my office. We both took a seat on leather chairs, Tariel sitting across from me as I sat in my chair at my desk, "Now tell me. Please."

"Do you know of Abaddon?" I asked.

"Enlighten me." She answered.

"Abaddon was a Knight of Hell. She was a greedy, selfish bitch who wanted my throne. She believed I couldn't be a good enough King as I was just a salesman."

"You didn't believe her, did you?" She asked timidly.

"Of course not, my ego isn't that easily deflated, dear Tariel." I chuckled, "She always believed that she could do better. But she was killed by Dean."

"Good. Now how does this come into play?"

"There were a few loyal followers to her. They still exist and I'm still trying to find them and eradicate them. That's why I've been out so much. I've been trying to get rid of them, but they just keep coming back." I explained.

Tariel paused, sighing a little, "Wow. Well, I know it probably doesn't make a difference but I think you're the best king Hell has had." She hummed.

"I know." I smiled smugly as she rolled her eyes.

"How many of her followers are there?"

"Not sure." I answered, "But they're all being stabbed when I find them."

"Do you have any idea who they are?"

"I get some tips from my loyal followers here and there, other than that, no."

Tariel knotted her eyebrows together, standing from her seat, "How _dare_ they...You are their King, whether they like it or not. They must be disposed of if they do not cooperate."

"Heh," I chuckled, standing and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "...Thank you." _Please's_ and _thank you's_ were always hard to produce, "For actually giving a damn about this."

Tariel realized this and smiled, "You're welcome." She stood, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

"Positive."

She nodded, "I'm going for a walk." She called over her shoulder. As she left, I followed as the lightning in the sky crackled overhead. Thunder clouds, grey with anger, swirled above, darkening the atmosphere. I watched from the window as Tariel looked up to the clouds, a bolt of lightning illuminating the sky, showing her wings in the light. They were dark grey, a bit smaller than most, but still big. I blinked and she was gone.

* * *

**Tariel's POV**

I stood outside the bunker, rain now pouring heavily. There was now a constant question bugging me. Was the woman who hurt Crowley Abaddon?

I heard the door opening and I was met with Mazalel's face. She grinned widely, "Tariel! You're back! You're okay! Where've you been? What did you do?" She squealed, pulling me into a hug.

"Hello," I greeted, hugging back, "I was just travelling around. How are you?"

"Castiel and I have been checking on the children for the past few weeks again. The Winchesters are also teaching me to hunt. Basic things but its still progress." She grinned.

"That's great," I smiled, "I actually need to talk to Sam."

"Oh? Is something wrong?" Mazalel asked.

"No, I just need to ask a few things." I answered. She let me in and shut the door, leading me into the Bunker, "Dean and Cas are out right now."

"I miss being here sometimes." I told her, walking down one of the halls.

"I miss you being here." Mazalel smiled, knocking on one of the doors, "Sam?" She called.

"Yeah?" He called.

"Tariel's back, she wants to ask some things."

Sam opened the door, seeing me and smiling, "Hey."

"Hi."

"Oh, come in," Sam let me in as Mazalel walked away, "Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you, too." I smiled, "Sam, you're one of the smartest people I know, so I need to ask a few things."

"Sure, go ahead." He gestured to a seat. I sat down.

"What do you know about Abaddon?" I asked him.

Sam's gaze hardened, "Why do you ask?"

"I heard the name while I was travelling. I was in the presence of a demon. A hunter attacked him later." I lied, "I'm curious."

Sam nodded, blowing a hard puff of air through his nose, "Do you remember that memory I showed you? That red head that beat up Crowley?"

"Yes, I remember." It had been almost seven months now and I still remember the memory of Crowley getting beat up. And it still hurt.

"That's her. A Knight of Hell who loved Cain and killed his wife. Manipulative. Challenged Crowley for his throne and crown." He explained.

"Oh..." _So that's who she was, I mustn't have heard it properly when Crowley said her name in the Church._

"Yeah. Anything else to ask?"

"Yes..." I ventured, "It makes me wonder...When Crowley was in the Church...Do you think he was serious about wanting to be loved?"

"I...I don't actually know. The guy's evil but he seemed really truthful about it. Why do you ask?"

"It's been bugging me for the past few months. Well, thank you. I'll see you around." I left, going to an empty field and accessing Sam's memory.

The memory was stored in my brain and I could access it – like one could access the internet without being at home, Sam being the metaphorical 'home' and the internet being the memory.

_I appeared in the church, just after Abaddon had come and gone. Crowley stared up to Sam, blood running down his face, eyes vague and sad. _

"Band of Brothers_? _The Pacific_? None of this means anything to you? All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once? Girls? You're my Marnie, Moose. A-and Hannah - she just -she needs to be loved. She deserves it, don't we all?"_

"_You, me-we deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved!" He screeched. A tear rolled down my cheek, "I just want to be loved." He confessed. Sam turned back away, probably to do his own thing. I stepped forward cautiously – whatever I did here had no effect on the future, so I could do as I pleased. _

_I sat cross-legged on Crowley's legs, stroking away some blood with my thumb as I held his head in my hand. I pressed my forehead to his, crying softly before kissing the spot between his eyebrows before adjusting my position. I rested my head against his shoulder, swinging my legs over the arm of the chair, clutching to him as I shut my eyes. _

The memory faded as I found myself back in the field, lying down in the lush green grass, clutching at strands as if it were Crowley.

* * *

**Hey guys! This story is going well so far but it's being put on _HIATUS_ *children screaming in distance***

**I'm going on a long holiday and I'm not allowed to bring my laptop *pray for me*, so I will have no way of doing this without having another copy on my laptop and well I need more than one copy because it's organized. Do not fret, though. I am still going to be able to message, just not write, so you know, if you wanna talk or something... I'm right here. Kind of.**

**See ya!**


	14. Dinner

**I'm finally back from my holiday! So glad to be updating! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

_Do you ever think about me? _

_Wonder what it_

_Would be like to_

_Hold me in your protective arms?_

_Do you ever think of my lips?_

_Pressed to your ones_

_Forever stuck_

_In a state of eternal love_

I sighed, putting the parchment in my drawer, leaving the poem alone. Love. A small but deadly word. A feeling poisoning me. Was I actually in love? With _Crowley_, of all people? It seemed so.

2 weeks since I last saw the Winchesters – well Sam, anyway. 1 week since I had seen Mazalel.

Mazalel died younger (she was 21, I, 25) but she always seemed so much wiser on social topics. Where she would excel in making friends and sharing a common interest, I would stumble and fall. She knew far much more about love than I, because she had her love by her side. It made me envious. I wanted something like that.

It had been a rather sunny day, so we were at an ice-cream shop.

"_So how are you? How's things?" She asked happily, licking a cone of strawberry ice cream._

_I was currently staring off into the distance, ignoring Mazalel and my slowly melting cup of butter-pecan. _

"_Hello? Tariel?" I looked up._

"_Mmm?"_

"_How are you?" She repeated, giggling, "Who's on your mind?"_

"_Who? Don't you mean what?" I asked, eating a spoonful of my creamy delight._

"_No, I mean who. I notice that when someone ignores their food, they're thinking of someone. Well, it happens with me anyway." She blushed, biting off some of her ice cream, looking to the ground._

"_Cas?" I asked and she nodded, "Of course."_

"_Anyway, who?" She asked again._

"_Oh..." I still hated lying, "Just...There's this guy that I've been staying with...He's...Different. You know, good different. He makes me feel different. You know...I just want him to think about me. He kind of seems so caught up in his world and I try to help but I just...Yeah. Everyone seems to hate him and he hates them back but he tolerates me – maybe even likes having me around." I explained._

"_Sounds like you're harboring some major feelings here."_

"_Like?"_

"_Like love. Sounds like me when I was starting with Castiel. Constantly on my mind. Always wondering whether he ever thought of me. It sounds vain, but lots of people go through it." She explained._

_That was when I started to panic. _Love? In love with Crowley? Dangerous, King of Hell Crowley? A demon? We're opposites. _It didn't make sense._

"_But I- that doesn't add up. All these people tell me he's dangerous and evil and-"_

"_Do you believe them?" She asked thoughtfully, crunching her cone._

_I thought about this for a few moments. Yes, Crowley was sometimes quite the evil bastard but I couldn't deny that he seemed to care for me. Even in a little way. He hadn't ever really been the caring type to anyone else – well as far as I know. Most probably only for his Hellhounds. _

"_...I can see why they say it, but he isn't like that to me." I admitted._

"_Aww, it must be nice to be liked by someone who hates everyone by the sounds of it." She nodded approvingly. _

Should I have trusted her judgement? Well, she did seem to know more about it than me...But this was my decision if I loved him or not.

I glanced back to my drawer, remembering how many unfinished love poems were in there, "Ugh, who am I kidding?" I growled, falling back to the pillows in frustration.

* * *

**Crowley's POV**

"Guthrie!" I called, sitting on my Throne once again. All this worry over losing my Throne was getting to me once more.

"Yes, your Highness?" Guthrie asked, approaching calmly. I preferred him over many other Demons – he wasn't whiny or annoying. He just listened and did what he was told.

"I'm not scheduled to see over anymore sentencing this evening, am I?" I asked.

Guthrie scanned over my schedule, "No, do you have an arrangement you'd like me to put in?"

"Yes, actually."

* * *

"Tariel? Tariel!" I called, arriving back to the mansion. I shut the door and heard footsteps hurrying down the staircase.

"Yeah?" Tariel asked as she got to the foot of the stairs, a long scroll of parchment trailing behind her as she tried heaping it into her arms.

"Are you busy tonight?" I asked.

"Crowley, I'm always busy. Things to write, music to listen to, writer's block to destroy, the works." She hummed, rolling the parchment up.

"You're really dedicated to that, aren't you?" I asked, snapping the parchment away.

"Yes- where'd you snap my story to?" She questioned anxiously.

"Not telling you." I smirked.

"Crowley, I don't have time for games. I only have to end the paragraph and I'm done." She hissed.

"I'll tell you _if_ you go out for dinner with me tonight." I grinned.

Tariel paused, "Then I get my stuff back?"

"Yes."

Tariel nodded, "Okay. Besides, it might be fun."

"_Might be? _ Come now; have a little faith in me, won't you? Two friends out on the town, what could go wrong?" I asked.

"A lot, actually. Car crash, you could get stabbed by a gang member, I could get stabbed by a gang member-"

"Enough of the pessimism." I stopped her.

"Right, sorry." She chuckled.

"So, be ready around 8. Then we can go. We'll have fun; it'll be a break from all the stress over the issue of my Throne and my disloyal followers."

"Well I can't exactly go like this." Tariel gestured to her clothes.

I snapped my fingers, "Already covered. There are a few things in your wardrobe you may like."

She giggled, "Thanks." She said, running back up the stairs.

* * *

It was soon approaching 8:00, so I sat quietly in my office, sipping on a glass of Craig. It was odd. Never had I imagined I would actually be in this state of life. I'm battling an unknown enemy for my throne. At least the last time this was happening, I knew what red-headed nightmare I was dealing with, but this time I've no clue.

But at least there's someone willing to help me this time. Not out of force or guilt – she actually wants to. And dear God am I lucky to have her on my side. But sometimes I wished I could have _her_. To kiss. To hold. To love.

"What the hell is wrong with me? Being a love sick Hellhound over her. It's not worth it. She has good morals – she knows not to let herself fall for you. You're the King of Hell, she's an Angel. The equation doesn't add up." I

After what felt like years I had finally accepted what I was feeling – love. Actual love. It was confusing.

"Crowley! Are you ready?" Tariel called. There was a familiar 'click-click-click' as she descended the stairs.

"Yes, I assume you're ready?" I called back.

Tariel entered my office, swinging her handbag on her shoulder. _I thought that dress would look amazing on you. _I thought to myself. She wore a black dress with her hair lied in a loose braid that fell down her right shoulder. The dress came just past her knees, and it had a gold band around her waist. The sleeves were made of lace.

"Well? We ready to go?" She asked.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. You look lovely." I told her, trying not to sound flirtatious – I didn't want her to know my feelings, even if it was just flirting.

"Thank you." She smiled happily.

I walked over to her, "So, would you like to go anywhere in particular?"

"No, surprise me." She grinned.

"Alright." I took her hand, snapping us somewhere new.

* * *

"So why are you still staying with me? Don't you wanna go out and see the world? Properly, I mean." I asked Tariel. We were in Venice, sitting in a restaurant by the water. Gondolas went past every few moments, usually with a family of tourists or a couple in them.

"I do see the world. Where do you think I get all my inspiration? In the last 3 months on weekend trips I've been to Greece, Paris and New York. I like coming back to somewhere I can call home." She stated, sipping on her glass of champagne.

"You still want to stay with me?" I asked, chuckling.

"Is there a problem?" She asked shyly.

"Oh, no, no. But I just find it hard to believe you've put up with me for so long." I laughed a little.

"Why wouldn't I? I enjoy your company." Tariel smiled happily.

"You actually do?" I asked.

"Of course. If I didn't, I would've left." She explained, "But seriously, I didn't think Demons ate."

"We usually don't. We don't have to, but some of us like to. Like sleep – we don't need it but we do enjoy it. I am a lover of both these things."

"Well that's lucky. You could go for days without them and you'd still be fine. Me? I still have to. Being a human-Angel doesn't come with all the perks of being a _real_ Angel." She sighed, "I don't even know how to use telekinesis properly."

"You don't?"

"Some things we get, but we still have to learn."

"I could teach you after dinner, if you'd like." I offered.

"Really? That sounds great! Thank you."

* * *

We were standing in the middle of Hell. It was a cool night and the scenery was calm. We stood near a humongous tree that overlooked a river from a cliff top.

I smiled, "You have the ability, you just need to concentrate." I assured, taking her hands, "See that rock?"

"Yes?"

"Focus on the rock. The rock is the only thing that matters. You need that rock to go straight in the air and stay there. Your very existence depends on it." I exaggerated. She obviously started concentrating as she didn't break eye contact with the rock.

"Point at the rock," I hummed near her ear. She pointed at the rock, her hands trembling, "Imagine it lifting effortlessly into the air as you lift it with your finger."

She imagined just that as the rock stayed on the ground. She kept slowly lifting it with her finger, but to no avail. 10 more minutes passed painfully and I tried being encouraging.

"Come on, you've almost got it."

Tariel sighed, lifting it once more before it came up, lifting to my eye level, "I did it!" She cheered as she put it down, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Congratulations! Keep working on that and you'll only get better." I congratulated.

* * *

It was almost 11 by the time we got back and Tariel was yawning tiredly. Once we got inside, I snapped my fingers, changing her into her pyjamas, "Just so you don't have to trudge tiredly through changing." I explained.

Tariel smiled tiredly, "Thanks for tonight. I had lots of fun." She hugged me. I was a bit surprised by the hug, but I seized the opportunity, hugging her back, "I haven't had a hug in a long time, sorry."

"No that's fine." I grinned. I wanted so, so badly to kiss her. To kiss her neck and her shoulders and her cheeks and to press my forehead to hers.

Tariel pulled away, bidding me a goodnight. _I love you._ I thought.


	15. Upstairs

_I can't exactly say anything to her. God, there's so many bloody emotions in my head and I can't-_

Rufus barked loudly, running over to me. I broke away from my ponderings, looking over to him as he sat beside me atop of the grassy cliff in Hell I had taken Tariel to a week ago. Today marked now 9 Earth months that I had been living with her. Had it really been that long already?

"Hello, boy," I greeted, patting his head as he laid his head in his paws, "9 months that Miss Tariel has been living with us, today," I told him, "You like her, don't you Rufus?"

Rufus barked again in agreement.

"I'm very lucky to have her with me, you know? She's smart, kind, a little bit shy..." His ears perked, "Virtuous. She knows what she _has_ to do, but she doesn't always do that, does she?" I chuckled, remembering how she had tried getting information from Elizabeth, "And so beautiful. But she ignores what's best for her. She could end up getting seriously hurt if she keeps helping me."

Rufus whimpered, "But I won't let that happen. I would stand in the line of danger for her, even though as an Angel she's perfectly capable of looking after herself. Look at me Rufus, I'm turning into a mewling sap." I told him, "Don't you go running off to your friends about this – this is our little secret, my boy," I told him, standing, "Besides, I need to get back to the earth mansion. I've decided it would be best if we stayed here in Hell for now." I snapped my fingers.

I arrived at the earth mansion to see Tariel packing her things into a small bag in the living room, a bigger bag already packed.

"I see you're prepared to go." I observed.

Tariel jumped at the suddenness of my voice and turned, "Oh," She giggled, "Yeah I'm- I'm ready to go, yeah."

"Good." I held some of her bags and took her hand in mine, snapping my fingers.

**Tariel's POV**

It was like we hadn't even moved. The room was the exact same, except with more lavish furniture.

"Are you sure we even moved?" I asked.

"Look outside." He told me, nodding to the windows. I went over to them, leaving my bags on the ground.

I drew the curtained windows and opened them to reveal Hell. The smoky, calm smell made its way past my nose, causing me to hum in content.

"So did we move?" He asked playfully.

I whipped around, "It's Hell alright."

He nodded, "I will admit, I prefer my Hell mansion. More space, more lush furniture."

"I'm gonna go to my room," I told him, ascending the stairs and turning to go to where my room usually was. I walked in, to see it had changed.

Instead of the black walls I was used to, they were bright red wallpaper with a black pattern. The bed had a canopy, with a black curtain to close it up. I left my bags in the room as I rushed out, hurrying down the stairs, "Thank you for the make-over of my room."

"It's nothing."

"Alright, well I have work to do,"

"Oh?" He asked with a curious tilt of the head.

"I'm writing my poems and they need to be perfect," I explained.

"Are you going to publish it?"

I laughed, "No, it's for self-satisfaction," I flicked my hand, "Doi,"

"Doi?" Crowley sassed, "When did you transport from the sad 80's club?"

"I heard it when I was in London,"

Crowley shook his head, "Around those middle class wannabe's, most probably,"

"They did look a little young…"

Crowley shook his head, "Alright, well I'm off,"

"Where are you going?"

"Tariel, there's always idiots in Hell. I wish to eradicate them," Crowley smirked, leaving.

* * *

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing. The typewriter in front of me taunted me with an almost blank piece of paper, only 3 lines of my poem filled.

_Memories. Like fireflies in glass jars, buzzing and whirling and bright. What a shame if those fireflies were to die._

_What a shame if those memories went with the tide, with a roll of blue ocean waves, sparkled with sheer power and ferocity._

_Like she could ever forget those memories, though._

I'd been so busy lately, with Crowley and all that Hell business. But I was done with that. Crowley was very important to me, but I came first, and if that meant finishing the poem that's what it meant.

But it was difficult to say the least. All I could think about was these unanswered questions. I needed an outsider's opinion on my alliance - not one of the Winchester's highly placed thoughts.

Mazalel was proving to be more open minded - but she was always a very open and enthusiastic person (if it was something that interested her). But I still couldn't trust her with knowing my friendship. She'd be too worried about me, a justification to tell the Winchesters. That also ruled out Castiel.

There was only one person I could talk to, and that was my mother. Always the ever-flowing fountain of kindness and grace - unlike my father, who proved to be a pig.

Trouble was, she was upstairs, and I only knew of one portal, which was currently guarded by Metatron's angels.

I had no choice – I had to tell Castiel that I needed to get up there.

* * *

Another visit to the Bunker, where I felt Sam and Dean's eyes bore into my soul with questions. _Where did you go?_ _Why are you back? _

It's not like they hated me now, I don't think. Well I hoped not, anyway. They always welcomed me with open arms, always made sure I was okay.

They greeted me at the door with smiles, bringing me into two separate hugs.

"So how's the alone life treating you?" Dean asked as we descended the stairs.

"Pretty well," I answered, "Cas here? I need to talk to him,"

"He and Mazalel are out in the shack," Dean told me, leading me right back up the stairs.

"What are they doing?"

"Mazalel's practicing her archery, but right now they're probably making out,"

Archery. My jaw tightened as I remembered the arrow pierce through my skin, cold and harsh.

We walked to the shack and opened the door to see Mazalel release an arrow to the target, getting an almost bullseye.

"Almost," Mazalel sighed.

"It was still close, honeybee," Castiel told her, looking up to see Dean and I, "Hello Dean, hello Tariel,"

Mazalel whipped around, dropping her bow and racing to me, attacking me with a hug.

"Hey Tariel," She smiled as Dean left, "What's up?"

"Cas, where are the portals to Heaven? I only know of one and it's guarded by Metatron's army," I asked Cas urgently.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"I need advice only a mother can give," I told him. He nodded.

"I know of one place. Only I and a few others know of it. It's in a dumpster, though,"

I shrugged, "No matter,"

"Can I come?" Mazalel asked.

"Sure, I need all the eyes I can get," I replied.

* * *

"Well, this is it," Castiel hummed. It was your everyday large dumpster, out the back of a pizza shop. No angels were guarding it, so we were all good. Castiel started to carve a symbol onto the bin with a dagger, before chanting in Enochian.

The symbol started glowing a magnificent white light before spreading open, spewing bits of garbage everywhere. We tried dodging, but eventually small bits of trash landed on each of us. I peeled an orange peel off my skin as Cas moved forward cautiously, moving a hand through to see it disappear.

"Alright, let's go," He called after us as he kept walking. I watched Mazalel follow him, looking back to me and yanking me in.

* * *

We appeared in a long white hall, marked D.

"Alright, do you want us to stay with you?" Mazalel asked.

I thought about this for a moment, "No, it's okay. I'll just wait here when for you guys. Maybe you'd want to introduce your mother to Cas?" I suggested.

Mazalel looked up to Castiel and smiled, "Come on, then, sweetpea,"

I watched them walk away, hand in hand, as I turned. I walked down the hall, looking at all the door in this never-ending hall.

I observed the doors marked with surnames beginning with D.

_Dalton, Delaney, Dermody, Dignan, Donahan, Doyle, Duxberry-_

"Here we are," I murmured, after what felt like twenty minutes. I opened the door and kept walking, seeing multiple first names.

More walking, and after more minutes wasted I came to a hall marked Sarah Louise Duxberry. I knew my mother's Heaven was number one hundred and forty-three. After more walking, I turned up at her door, knocking before walking in.

My mother's heaven was very beautiful. It was a brightly lit, two-storey home that was surrounded by a luscious garden. The door out was a small hole in a tree that expanded when an Angel wanted to come and go.

So I stood under the tree, looking up to the second storey window to see my mother in a rocking chair. As she rocked, she stopped, looking down to see me. Her face lit up, pushing the window open with her hand, "Hello sweetie! Come up,"

I sighed, walking down the cobblestone path to her home.


	16. Mother's Always Right

**Tariel's POV**

My mother's heaven was absolutely gorgeous, almost like it grew in beauty every time I visited. I hadn't visited her since I left Heaven, so it had been a while.

The two-storey house was a pale yellow colour, like an early morning sunrise, with vines crawling up the sides of the walls and tulips growing in abundance in a section of the garden. There were many flowers, actually, and a small pond filled with goldfish. The sun was near setting, casting an orage haze over the sky.

I approached the wooden door, opening it to reveal a quaint little home, the walls littered with photos in frames and old antiques. The furniture was bathed in floral print, and the floor wine red carpet. The walls reflected the colour of a summer sky, a rich blue.

I saw my mother start down the stairs, carrying the baby in her arms. Her dress cascaded after her as she walked, as if she were an angel herself. Her black hair fell halfway down her back, her brown eyes making me feel warm and welcomed.

"Hello, mother," I smiled as she walked toward me, leaning in and placing a kiss on both my cheeks.

"Hello, Viola. Look at you, I swear you've gotten taller," She mused, smiling proudly at me. She was the only one that I allowed to call me Viola – not even Crowley could be allowed to call me that.

"I don't get any taller, it's just the boots,"

"Right, right," She nodded, "Well sit down, do you want some tea?" she asked as she sat down herself.

"Are you sure you can make tea?" I asked, pointing to the baby as it cooed.

"No, my cup is never empty and always hot. I don't even need to make it. Look," She looked into the living room, where two cups of steaming tea appeared, and a small plate of little cakes.

"Awesome!" I grinned, going to sit down.

"Awesome? What has the language become?" She mused, shaking her head as she placed the baby in a cot next to her chair.

"How am I?" I asked, looking at the tiny version of me in the cot, with a head of black hair and wide eyes.

"Exceptionally cute. And such an easy baby, no changing or feeding, just cuddles and interaction," My mother smiled, sipping on her tea. I mimicked her actions as I picked up my cup, a beautiful shiny white porcelain ornament decorated with flower patterns, "But not as good as the real thing," she added.

"Mother, you'd be so proud of me, people actually like my poetry! Here," I pulled an envelope out of my pocket, passing it to her.

"Thank you so much. Oh I miss your poetry, all that money we spent on journals and quills," she laughed, "Went to good use,"

My mother was so beautiful when she laughed, it was like her entire face just lit up like the sun.

"So, which people like it?"

"Just people I've met. But how are you?"

"Just peachy, my dear. It's Heaven, after all. Nothing can go wrong, not with my daughter as one of the Angels," She grinned, leaning in to cup my cheek.

"So, how's Earth? You're experiencing it for the first time in almost 200 and something years," She added, "Looking good for your age, I might add," she sassed.

I chuckled, "First of all, I'm always 25 so technically I don't age. Secondly, it's wonderful. I've met up with Mazalel and Castiel and these two hunters – the Winchesters – and well…Yep,"

"_Yep_? That's all you came here to tell me?" She questioned, raising her eyebrows together.

"No it's just…" I looked around before leaning in, "I think I'm in love," I whispered.

"Oh really? Darling, that's great! I-"

"With a demon,"

Her face fell, face paling and eyes widening, "Oh…Oh dear, what have you gotten yourself into?" She asked.

"I don't know!" I answered in a whisper, "I came to you for your opinion,"

She sighed, "What's he like?"

"He's kind to me, and he's intelligent. Very charming, could sell a bible to a church,"

"_That_ charming?"

"He took me out for dinner the other week,"

She nodded, lips pursed, "What else?"

"Has the kind of humour I like. Looks out for me-"

"You can look out for yourself," My mother told me.

"I know- where did you learn that?"

She smiled, "You,"

I smiled back, "Thanks. Anyway, he's also _devilishly_ handsome, excuse the pun,"

"Do you have a photo?" She asked.

I thought about this for a moment, before taking out my phone. I had a sneak pic of him. I showed it to my mother, who nodded, "You're not wrong, darling…Hold on,"

"What?"

My mother gasped, "That's Crowley! That's the King of Hell- Viola!"

"I know, I know!" I shook my head as my mother shook her head.

"Viola, I…How…"

The room fell silent, aside from my baby self's coos. I was glad that I could always remain a child here – being an adult was hard. Having feelings was hard.

"I mean, I'm not even entirely sure if I am in love, but I think about him so much," I murmured.

"Well, do you feel comfortable around him?"

"Yes,"

"Are you scared of him?"

"No,"

"Well then," my mother nodded, "That speaks for itself,"

I sighed, "I guess so,"

I got up from my chair, setting the cup down on the glass table before me.

"Well, I need to go," I explained, "I'll…See you. Later,"

My mother got up. She opened her arms, and I walked into them, clinging onto her like a child. My mother rubbed my back, before tilting my chin up, "Good luck, Viola,"

"Thank you, mother," I smiled. We pulled away, and that lingering feeling of whether we should've stayed like that washed over me. That's when I truly saw how much her eyes were like shooting stars, how they sparkled with fresh tears. How gloomy it was to see wet diamonds in one's eyes.

I looked at her for another brief moment before whipping around, walking out of the picture-perfect cottage and into the garden. The sun was sinking further into hills, casting a more pinky-purple haze over the sky.

As I approached the tree, I watched the entrance hole expand, roots twisting and running further along the ground. I ducked my head, stepping through the hole and automatically appearing back in the hall.

I looked back to the entrance of this particular hall, seeing Cas and Mazalel waiting for me. I joined them hurriedly.

"So, did you find out what you were hoping to?" Castiel asked me, joining hands with Mazalel as we exited.

"Yes, I did. How was Mazalel's mother?" I asked as we rounded a corner, coming to a portal.

"She was fine,"

The small talk continued as we left Heaven. We came to a different location, instead finding ourselves under a bridge.

"I need training. I need to know how to defend myself and attack – properly," I told them both, "Can you possibly ask the Winchesters if they could train me?"

"Yeah, sure," Mazalel answered.

"I'll drop by in three days for an answer," I replied, "Thank you. See you around," I said, flashing away.


	17. Time to Get Serious

By the time the next season rolled around, I was trained.

It was mostly just my aim that needed work, and my smiting. Again, I had the skills, but not the knowledge. I was still a little unsure in my smiting abilities, but Castiel just said I had to really concentrate.

It had been a full year now that I had spent living with Crowley, with the past three months being spent in Hell. It was quite unusual – I mean, the only other Angel around here was Lucifer, but no one was allowed to see him.

The Demons gave me a lot of dirty looks – some of the females who wanted the crown were jealous of me being so close to Crowley, I guess. I visited the human slaves sometimes, just to talk to them. Some were just hunters who got caught up in the flames.

Things had gotten much tenser down here. Crowley's staff were disappearing, a once full court of twelve now down to four – Crowley included. It was bad for him, he was starting to look paranoid. And those who were against him must've been relishing in it.

Guthrie and a new servant – Felicity – were the only demons I saw Crowley trusting. But Felicity was very…Close with Crowley, or at least tried to be.

I went out on daily ventures trying to find out who the one behind it all was – all I knew was that they were an Abaddon supporter. I often came back with no further leads.

I woke up at around one in the morning after a dream, only to hear the slight thud of the fridge from downstairs.

_Must be Crowley_. I thought. _Probably just working._

But I decided I was a little bit hungry, so I got out of bed to go downstairs, only to see the whispy frame of Rufus by the stairs.

Rufus was a good hellhound. Not good-good, but obedient. He was practically Crowley's lapdog, but he was still getting used to me being here all the time.

"Rufus," I whispered. Rufus jolted up, ears perking as I tapped my hand against my thigh, leading him down the stairs.

I could see two lights were on – the kitchen light and the light in Crowley's office.

But something was in the house. I could see the shine from a pair of boots, the light gently reflecting off something's face.

Shit.

I quickly ran into the kitchen, turning to see three demons – eyes the shade of a moonless night – cornering me.

Rufus was barking at them before one of the demons swiftly pulled out an Angel blade, stabbing Rufus repeatedly. His black eyes suddenly burst with white, his body falling to the ground.

Before I could scream, a demon had his big, dirty hands over my mouth. He was a big brute, with broad shoulders and a stupid, bald head.

The other two demons were two girls. They both towered over me with their heels, one blonde and one a dyed blue.

"Tariel," The blue haired one greeted in a whisper, "The angel,"

"We don't want to harm you," The blonde one added with a smirk, "Damian here is just a precaution,"

"We aren't even here for you," the blue haired girl said, "We're here for Crowley. He refused to give up his crown even Hell was going to…Well, Hell,"

"Who are you?" I managed to ask while Damian kept his grubby hand on my face.

"Ariane. An Abaddon loyalist," she said, "This is Samantha," gesturing to the blonde.

I couldn't help but stare at Rufus, whose blood pooled around his body, soaking his fur.

"Look at me, filthy winged bat," Samantha growled.

_God, Crowley, don't come here. I thought_. I had to stall, "Why do you support Abaddon?"

"I was her girlfriend," Ariane hissed, "And that crown was gonna be hers,"

_Abaddon had a girlfriend?_

"Hello, girls,"

Damian was suddenly stabbed through the head with a blade, letting go of me as he fell back. Before I checked to see who it was, I went for Samantha, concentrating ever so hard as to smite her.

Samantha's eyes glowed, and in the corner of my eye I saw a cloud of black smoke whirl away as Samantha fell.

The air stopped swirling, Samantha's body now cold on the kitchen floor.

"They killed my dog!" Crowley raged, a mix of pure hatred and disbelief in his voice. I turned to see him kneeling in front of Rufus.

"I am so sorry, I was just going to get a snack and- and I saw them and they-" I started rambling as his anger grew.

"Killed my dog. I swear if I ever find her again I'll have her head!" He roared, almost running out of breath in his rage. His face was red, eyes narrowed with fists balled

"And they almost killed you!" I added, yelling right back at him.

In an instant he flicked his hand, knocking over the vase full of Hellfire Lilies – a flower that only grew down here. The vase crashed against the kitchen floor, spreading glass, water and flowers everywhere. His face started to return to its natural colour, eyes falling back to their normal state as he groaned, "Bollocks,"

"Those flowers were wilting, anyway," I offered timidly.

Crowley just nodded, picking up the huge mutt from the floor with no trouble, almost slipping in the blood as he made his way for the door.

The effects of the night's tousle were now plain as day – a large puddle of blood on the black tile, messed around by Crowley's feet. Glass shards had found their way into the blood, with the water and flowers laying desolate.

I was worried for him – I was always worried for him. Rufus was Crowley's pup. That dog would've followed him to the ends of the earth. He died protecting his master.

By the time I made it outside, Crowley had snapped up a hole, and was laying Rufus inside.

* * *

The next time we were in the Throne Room, Crowley called a meeting before trials.

I sat on a small chair next to his throne, where I could observe the small group of Demons before me.

There were six of them, from young to old. Two women and four men – Guthrie and Felicity among them. They all wore business suits, all freshly pressed. Their expressions were all blank, aside from Felicity, who smiled warmly at her king.

I felt jealous. I was the one that loved Crowley, me. I just had to wait to see if he loved me back.

"Let it be noted that the last few supporters will be found of high treason. They will be killed on spot. Any demon who rats out their Abaddon-loving buddies will be highly rewarded with entrails and a promotion," Crowley declared, staring down the court with his eyes turned red as to signal his seriousness.

"Yes, my King," They all agreed in a droll – well, except Felicity who, again, said it with such enthusiasm it made me a mix of annoyed and sick.

"I'm pleased we've all established that bastards who dare oppose me shall be punished," He grinned, "Keep me updated on the grape vine. Now, onto trials,"

Without a word, the Demons took their seats, Felicity and one other demon taking their places beside Crowley and I.

Court was always really boring. Crowley usually just sent people to the torture racks, Felicity would complement him on a job well done, I would try not to tell her to back off, the usual.

By the time the session ended, all the demons clicked off somewhere else aside from – you guessed it – Felicity.

"Um, your majesty?" She asked timidly as she approached the area in front of him, "May I have a private audience with you?"

I looked over to Crowley to see him stroke his chin, "As cliché as this sounds, anything you can discuss with me can and will be with Tariel in my presence. She's my guardian at the moment," He nodded over to me.

He considered me a guardian?

"Can't be too careful, what with all these Abaddon morons out there," He added.

Felicity started laughing, but you could tell it was fake. I don't know if it was to please or to conceal hatred – but the second option didn't seem like her. Well, to my knowledge.

Crowley was a bit surprised at her sudden laughter, staring at her hardly, "I wasn't aware I was making a joke. Now, what is it that's tapping along in that head of yours?"

Felicity's smile faded as she stood taller, casting a quick glance at me before nodding, "Um, well, I was wondering if one might want to go out for a drink sometime?"

Crowley smirked in surprise, eyebrows raised, while I tried not to scowl.

I mean, she had every right to, I hadn't made a move after a year. But it felt like she was trying to take him away – and she was.

"What a brave little ant you are," Crowley noted condescendingly.

"I guess that's a no?" Felicity asked.

"I'll have a think about it," Crowley said rather dismissively, getting up to leave.

"Oh, thank you sire," She grinned, disappearing.

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Come along, fawn,"

I smiled, "You haven't called me that in so long,"

"No, I haven't. Now come along, are you hungry?"

* * *

Before the evening started, I went out into the rocky hills of hell, the river below coursing with sticky red blood, reminding me all too well of that day with Elizabeth.

The wind that blew through my hair was neither hot nor cold, it was just a simple breeze that got lost in my hair as I carefully made my way to the mouth of a cave, carrying Rufus' old spiked collar.

The Hellhounds – ones Crowley sent to collect souls, not particularly belonging to any one demon – resided here, and from the rumours I had heard, there were pups.

So when I travelled into the cave, I armed myself with my Angel blade. None of them were generally in attack mode around me anymore, but they were still cautious.

Their beady black eyes glared at me as I looked toward a mother with four – maybe five – new pups by her side, all old enough to leave her by now.

I started to walk toward her, crouching when I got to her and holding out Rufus' old collar. She stuck out her cold nose, sniffing it as the other dogs stood protectively around her.

"I need a pup for Crowley," I explained, even though explaining to her was useless. Surely she must've recognized her owner's name?

The mother looked at me for a moment before one of the pup's started to chew at the collar. Mother nudged her along as she continued to chew, pushing her into my feet.

I guessed this was the pup.


End file.
